
/^^■' 



i iP!i|:;!;ii:rK;!:ip::: 



! Ill ii :■ ■ ^^'ii^.; 



i}ii\ni' 



11 hip )iHSJH<iOJ^-) '!!*;.;- :;.:,- 



11-.:;'; 
i' 



(ill iiliiliiliii 



,•11 










SOMETHING BROKE AND THERE WAS A SPILL. 

See page 137. 



SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN BOY SERIES 

1 7 ' 

Pick, Shovel and Pluck 

Further Experiences 

"With the Men who do Things'' 



.,\^ BY 

aFrussell bond 

n 
Author of the *' Scientific American Boy^ 

*' Scientific American Boy at School," 

"With the Men who do Things," 

** Handy Man's Workshop and 

Laboratory f'* etc. 



New York 

MUNN & CO., Inc., Publishers 

1915 






Copyright, 1913, by A. Russell Bond. 
Copyright, 19 14, by A. Russell Bond. 



Copyright, 19 14, by Munn & Company, Inc. 



Rights of translation into all languages including the Scandinavian 

are reserved. 



Published, October 19 14. 



NOV I619t4' 



(Q)CI,A888415 

Printed in the United States of America by A. H. Kellogg Company, 

New York. 



PREFACE. 

ENGINEERING work is, on the whole, very 
tedious, owing to the complexity of the work 
and its infinite amount of technical detail, but for- 
tunately it is not without a certain exhilarating interest. 
The monotony of office work is relieved by the 
demand for ingenuity to meet unexpected problems, 
while the drudgery of hard labor in the field is en- 
livened by hazards, and, occasionally, a call for real 
courage to meet sudden dangers. In either case, it is 
a struggle for mastery — a battle of brain or a battle 
of brawn — and as such it appeals to boys of vigorous 
mind and body. 

It is the purpose of the author to utilize this ap- 
peal in explaining the work of the engineer, to put 
the material in such simple form that any schoolboy 
can understand it, and, if possible, to serve it so ap- 
petizingly that he will read it to the very end. For 
this reason the material has been woven into a story 
filled with adventure. 

For the adventures it was not necessary to draw 
upon the imagination. Actual engineering work 
furnishes plenty of novel experiences, some of which 
seem so extraordinary as to be almost incredible. 
Take the adventure in the last chapter, for instance: 
To have a huge slab of stone drop on a ledge in such 
delicate poise that it could be rocked like a monster 
see-saw by the weight of a boy seems almost beyond 
belief. Yet at a different time, in a different place, 



iv Preface. 

with a different hero, this actually took place. The 
story is vouched for by the head of a reliable house- 
wrecking company. In fact, every story in this book, 
no matter how unreal it may seem, is based on fact. 

As the sub-title indicates, the present book is a 
sequel to "With the Men Who Do Things,'' which 
told of two boys who spent a summer in New York, 
studying the big engineering undertakings in and 
about the city. The present volume takes the same 
boys away from New York, and gives them a wider 
variety of engineering experiences, reaching from the 
Panama Canal to the Keokuk Dam across the Mis- 
sissippi, and finally, in the last eight chapters of the 
book, bringing them back to New York. 

As in the previous book the calendar has been 
ignored, and engineering undertakings that date back 
many years are staged in the same year with those 
that have barely yet begun. 

As the primary object of this book is to instruct, 
every precaution has been taken to secure absolute 
accuracy of all the engineering data. The author is ; 
deeply indebted to many engineers who furnished 
him with drawings, photographs and information, and 
who have read his manuscript to make sure it con- 
tained no technical errors. It gives him pleasure to 
make public acknowledgment of their aid. To 
Mr. George B. Fry, he is indebted for the incident 
related in the first chapter of the book; to Mr. W. 
J. Krome, chief engineer of the Florida East Coast- 

I 



Preface. v 

Railroad, for data on the railroad over the sea; and 
to Mr. N. C. Rockwood, associate editor of Engi- 
neering News, Mr. Fred H. Colvin, managing 
editor of American Machinist and Mr. Gilbert H. 
Gilbert he is indebted for assistance in preparing the 
chapters on the Panama Canal. Information on 
salving a wreck was obtained from W. H. Flaherty, 
a well-known wrecker. Mr. Philip Brasher supplied 
the stories of the diver and the pneumatic break- 
water in Chapter VI, and Mr. J. E. Williamson very 
kindly furnished information, with illustrations, on 
taking submarine motion pictures. Photographs of 
the raising of the Maine were loaned by Col. W. 
M. Black, U. S. A., who was the chief engineer in 
charge of that interesting engineering work, while 
Mr. G. A. Watt, Engineer, U. S. A., furnished valu- 
able suggestions. Mr. C. A. Snider, of the Union 
Sulphur Company, provided illustrations for the 
chapter on "Mining with Hot Water.'' Mr. Edwin 
S. Jarrett, vice-president of the Foundation Com- 
pany, supplied the material and illustrations for 
Chapter XI. To Mr. G. Waller Barr, of the Mis- 
sissipi River Power Company, the author is indebted 
for valuable suggestions and photographs showing the 
construction of the Keokuk Dam. The United 
States Steel Corporation furnished the author with 
every facility for investigating the steelworks at South 
Chicago and at Gary, Indiana, and the author is par- 
ticularly indebted to Mr. W. R. Walker, assistant 



vi Preface. 

to the president of the Steel Corporation, and Mr. 
G. G, Thorpe, vice-president of the Indiana Steel 
Company. Thanks are due to the Pennsylvania 
Railroad for help with the chapter on the ride in the 
locomotive of an express train. The author is in- 
debted to Mr. Olaf Hoff for assistance in preparing 
the article on the Harlem River Tunnel; to A. W. 
Stark, of the Consolidated Gas Company, for the ma- 
terial on the hanging office-building; to Mr. W. H. 
Brown and E. S. Houghton for the story of the 
watchmen trapped in the tunnel; to Mr. B. W. 
Bennett for the story of the man sealed in a flue; 
to Mr. Alfred B. Flinn, deputy chief engineer of 
the Board of Water Supply of the City of New 
York, and Mr, J. P. Hogan, division engineer, for 
material published in Chapter XIX; to Mr. Robert 
Ridgway, chief engineer of subway construction of 
the Public Service Commission, and to Mr. Walter 
S. Willis and Mr. John J. Hagerty for matter ap- 
pearing in Chapter XX; to Mr. Gustav Lindenthal 
and Mr. H. W. Hudson for assistance with the 
chapter on the Hell Gate Bridge and photographs of 
the work; and, finally, to Mr. Albert A. Volk for infor- 
mation on scientific methods of wrecking a building. 
The present book is the fourth of the Scientific 
American Boy Series. The first two tell how boys 
may do things, and the last two recount experiences 
**with the men who do things." 

A. RUSSELL BOND. 

New York, October, 19 14. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER L PACE 

A DISASTROUS MORNING. i 

Visit to a deep aqueduct shaft. Pumping out the shaft. 
Bill has an accident. Interview with Dr. McGreggor. 

CHAPTER IT 

OVER THE SEA BY RAIL. 9 

At work in a paper mill. A Thanksgiving Day visit. On 

the way to the Panama Canal. How the railroad was built 

over the sea. 

CHAPTER II T 
THE CONQUEST OF THE CHAGRES.- 20 

Building a Dam with water. A trip through the Gattin locks. 
An interview with Colonel Goethals. 

CHAPTER IV. 
SEVERING THE ISTHMUS. 32 

First view of the Pacific Ocean. The old city of Panama. 
Blowing up the Gamboa dike. Slides in the Culebra cut. 

CHAPTER V. 
RAISING A WRECK WITH AIR. 39 

The wreck of the Madeline, Salving a stranded vessel. 
Fishing for sharks. A hurricane. A swim for life. 

CHAPTER VI . 
FIGHTING THE SEA WITH AIR. 52 

An old acquaintance. Diver caught by an anchor. Diver 
trapped in a smoke-box. A pneumatic breakwater. 

vii 



viii Contents. 

CHAPTER VII. 

A HOLE IN THE SEA. 62 

A submarine photographing chamber. Photographing a 
diver under water. A bait for sharks. Fight with the 
sharks. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

BARING THE MYSTERY OF THE MAINE. 74 

A relic of the Maine. Construction of the coffer-dam. 
Uncovering the Maine. The oxy-acetylene torch. Burying 
the Maine. 

CHAPTER IX. 
MINING WITH HOT WATER. 84 

A call from home. Uncle Ed to the rescue. Visit to a 
sulphur mine. Freezing quicksand. 

CHAPTER X. 

KEEPING THE MISSISSIPPI IN CHECK. 92 

The longest river in the world. Sailing upstream by drifting 

downstream. Keeping the Mississippi to its crooked course. 

Weaving willow mats. Mississippi floods. 

CHAPTER XI. 
BUILDING A QUAY WITH A DIVING BELL. 103 

A floating pneumatic caisson. Capping piles far below water 
level. Novel lumber-conveyor. 

CHAPTER XII. 
SETTING THE RIVER TO WORK. iii 

The Keokuk Dam. A chunk of concrete a mile long. Paper 
joints in the concrete. Enormous turbine generators. At- 
tacked by an ice field. Fighting the river with sand-bags. 

CHAPTER XIII. 
TAMING STEEL WITH FIRE. 123 

Ore-unloading machines. A peep into a blast furnace. 
Turning slag into cement. Tapping the furnace. Changing 
iron into steel. Pouring the molten metal into ingot molds. 
Rolling the ingots into rails. A Bessemer converter. A 
spill in the open hearth building. Heroism of the crane-man. 



Contents. ix 



140 



CHAPTER XIV. 

IN THE LOCOMOTIVE CAB OF "THE STARLIGHT 
LIMITED." 

Pulling out of the Pittsburgh yards. Ringing the locomotive 
bell. The rocking gait of a gigantic steel mastodon. Plung- 
ing into a tunnel. Taking on water. The Horseshoe Curve. 
''Red Eye." 

CHAPTER XV, 

FLOATING A STEEL TUNNEL. 155 

A job in an engineer's office. The Harlem river tunnel. 

Moving the fire-boat house. Launching the tunnel section. 

CHAPTER XVL 

A HANGING OFFICE-BUILDING. 164 

Suspending a new building over an old one. Building down 

instead of up. Sinking the Harlem river tube. Alining and 

joining the tunnel sections. The tremie scow. 

CHAPTER XVII, 
TRAPPED IN A FLOODED TUNNEL. 172 

Cutting through earth and rock with upper and lower head- 
ings. Bursting of a sewer. Two watchmen trapped in an 
upper heading. Pumping out the tunnel. Sending down 
light and food through the ** location" pipe. First rescue 
expedition. Danny Roach dives under a concrete bulk- 
head. Second rescue expedition successful. 

CHAPTER XVI IT 

SEALED IN A CHIMNEY FLUE. 186 

Using the smoke-stack as a ventilating pump. Bill and Jim 

as overseers. Flue riveted with man inside. Cutting a way 

out for the man. 

CHAPTER XIX 
WASHING WATER WITH AIR. 193 

An enormous steel cap for an aqueduct shaft. Lowering the 
track of a railroad to pass the cap and curb ring under a 
bridge. Enormous bolts to hold the cap down. Running 
the aqueduct across the Narrows. Water-tight, flexible pipe 
joints. Testing the joints for water- tightness. Aerating the 
Catskill water. A fountain of fifteen thousand jets. 



X Contents. 

CHAPTER XX. 
FIGHTING AN UNDERGROUND STREAM. 205 

Arrested as a housebreaker. Twenty-two story building on a 
sand foundation. In the subway excavation under Broad- 
way. An underground stream. The old canal. Bursting 
of a high pressure fire line. Gas mains on trestles. Moving 
a gas main with "dinkey** engines. The excavation flooded. 
A scramble for the exit. 

CHAPTER XXI. 
THE GREATEST STEEL ARCH IN THE WORLD. 220 

An elevated line one hundred and thirty-five feet high. The 
thousand-foot span across Hell Gate. A fissure in a tower 
foundation. Bridging the fissure underground. Trusses 
with chords large enough for a loaded hay wagon to drive 
through. Erecting the Hell Gate arch. 

CHAPTER XXII. 
WRECKING A SKYSCRAPER. 234 

Collapse of an old building. Wrecking a building from the 
bottom up. Tearing down a rocky wall during a furious 
thunderstorm. Wrecking a 2 2 -story office building. Riding 
down on a huge stone slab. The lewis gives way. A stone 
see-saw. Farewell to the city. 



LIST OF LINE DRAWINGS. 

FIGURE PAGE 

1. Where the fireman was found over the double-end 

BOILER 55 

2. The **hole in the sea" from which the motion pictures 

were taken 64 

3. The long oval coffer-dam made up of cylinders with 

SMALL arcs closing THE JOINTS BETWEEN THEM 78 

4. Top view of a sheet pile, showing by dotted lines how it 

interlocks with piles on each side 79 

5. The ARCH CONSTRUCTION BETWEEN THE CYLINDERS , . 80 

6. Traveling up the Mississippi by drifting downstream. ... 94 

7. One of the spots where thousands of dollars have been 

spent to keep the Mississippi from straightening 

ITS crooked channel 95 

8. Sectional view of the turbine, showing the electric 

generator above with a man STANDING BESIDE IT . . . . Il8 

9. Sectional view, showing the spiral course of the water 

through the turbine 119 

10. How the tunnel sections were locked together 169 

11. Running an upper heading through earth, and a lower 

one through rock 173 

12. Diagram of the flooded tunnel, showing the broken 

sewer near the elevator shaft 180 

13. Where the watchmen were trapped, showing the air-lock 

THAT blocked THE RESCUERS l8l 

14. How the smoke-stack served as an air pump 188 

15. The flexible joint used in the siphon 199 

16. The machine with which the pipe joints were tested. . . . 200 

17. General view of Hell Gate arch bridge 222 

18. Layout of the caissons of the Ward's Island tower 228 

19. Section of the lower chord at A, fig. 20 230 

20. Method of erecting the Hell Gate arch 232 

21. Device for lifting stones 245 

xi 



LIST OF HALF-TONE ILLUSTRATIONS. 



** Something broke and there was a spill" Colored Frontispiece ^ 

Facing 
Page 

'*ThAT eight-inch hose LASHED AROUND LIKE THE TAIL OF A HAR- 
POONED WHALE." 6 ^ 

Setting up the forms for the fifty-foot concrete arches 7 v^ 

Pushing the railroad step by step out into the sea 7 Z' 

A concrete centipede reaching across the sea 16 v^ 

Long Key Viaduct, over two and a half miles long 16 ^ 

A bridge of steel where the ocean battles most fiercely. . . IJ V 

A crowd of boats going through the locks 24 K 

View of the locks, showing one of the towing locomotives .... 24 v^ 

Measuring the flow at Gatun spillway from a suspended car 25 v 

Center wall of Gatun locks, looking toward the lake 251/^ 

The emergency gates of the Gatun locks 251/^ 

First water discharging through the spillway of Gatun dam 321,^ 

Building the Gatun dam with a stream of muddy water 32 

Gamboa dike before the explosion 33 v/^ 

Blowing up Gamboa dike with forty tons of dynamite 33 

CUCARACHA slide 36 L/ 

Typical morning fog rising out of Culebra cut 36./ 

One of the big dredges at work, forty tons at a single scoop 37 

"I MADE out the LIFE BOAT AND STRUCK OUT FOR IT." 48 ^ 

One of the units of the flexible shaft 491-'^ 

Tim exploring the old wreck 62 ^ 

Native boys diving for pennies 62 1^ 

Submarine garden seen from the "Hole in the Sea" 63 v/ 

xii 



List of Half-tone Illustrations. xiii 

Facing 
Page y 
Native diver in a duel with a shark 63 

Lifting half a templet out of a completed cylinder 74 ^ 

Partly completed cylinder, showing the templet about which 

THE piles have BEEN DRIVEN 74 |^ 

The dredge (in the distance) is pumping the cylinders full 

of clay 75 1/ 

The Officers' quarters on the *' Maine," showing the wooden 
partitions eaten away by worms, except where protected 

BY MUD 8o^ 

The after-deck of the "Maine.*' 8i v/* 

After-portion of the "Maine" floated out of the coffer-dam 

AND ready to be BURIED AT SEA WITH HONORS 8l i/ 

General view of the sulphur mines 88 '^ 

Masses of sulphur waiting for shipment 88 ^ 

One of the wells just starting to pump molten sulphur... 891/^ 

Hydraulic dredge trying to maintain a nine-foot channel in 

the Mississippi river 96 *^ 

Grading a bank with a hydraulic jet 97^ 

Ground sills to prevent erosion in time of flood 97 '^ 

Hauling a snag out of the Mississippi and cutting it into 

convenient lengths to handle 100*' 

Weaving a mat to protect a caving bank loi 

Sinking an enormous willow mat loii 

The caisson supported between two barges 104 "^ 

Inside the caisson, showing the trolley conveyor 104 

The chain conveyor carrying lumber down under the caisson 105 

how the coffer-dams were built, one in advance ok the 

OTHER 112/ 

a mountain of ice threatened to overwhelm the coffer-dam 112 ' 

Protecting the coffer-dam against flood with rock and 

sand-bags i i^/ 

The final struggle of the river as the last gap was being 

CLOSED 113V 



XIV 



List of Half'tofie Illustrations. 



Faci 



Looking across the Mississippi at Keokuk 

The finished dam 

**We had to save that wall at all costs" 

Unloading a boat load of iron ore 

Exterior view of a blast-furnace, showing furnace and 
skip bridge in foreground, and dust catchers and stacks 
of hot blast stoves in the background 

An enormous ladle in the open hearth building, filling the 
ingot molds 

Charging crane taking out a glowing slab that is to be 

ROLLED into A PLATE 

The stripping machines pulling the molds off the glowing 

INGOTS 

Interior view of the rail-mill, showing a bloom about to 
enter a pass in the ** three-high '* blooming-mill 

Interior view of rail-mill, showing steel coming through 

THE finishing PASS ON ITS WAY TO THE SAWS 

Blowing a heat in a Bessemer converter 

**a burst of flame shot out of the door, and almost at the 
same instant four or five men leaped out of a window" . . 

"All about was the wildest confusion of red, green, and 

YELLOW lights " 

Inspecting the locomotive before the start 

"Gazing calmly ahead and attending strictly to business" 

An enormous monster of steel — 293,250 lbs. loaded 

"The road swept around three sides of the reservoir of 

THE city of AlTOONA." 

Going down in a caisson to underpin a building 

The fire-boat house shipped upon a scow and towed to a new 

site a mile upstream 

Lifting a tunnel section off the staging on which it was 
built, by means of flatboats raised by the tide 

Launch of the tunnel section 

Sinking one of the sections of the Harlem River tunnel .... 



ng 
Page 
16^ 



List of Half-tone Illustrations. xv 

Facing 
Page 
The tremie scow over the tunnel section, loading it down 

with concrete i63 ^-^"^ 

View of the bridge over the old building, showing the first 

HANGER in PLACE 166 *^ 

The GIANT DERRICK WITH WHICH THE BIG STEEL GIRDERS WERE 

HOISTED 167^ 

The SPOT where the watchmen were trapped 176 w' 

The lock that barred the rescuers 176^ 

"Thin 01 doived back through it and cloimbed into the boat." 177 

The curb-ring sticking through the well car 192 >^ 

How the cover was mounted 192 i^ 

The experimental aerator at the Rye outlet of the Kensico 

reservoir 193 ^ 

The big aerator basin at Kensico 193 y^ 

Laying the aqueduct siphon across the Narrows 204 y 

Rolling a gas main across the street with four dinkey 

engines 205 ^ 

"We reached the exit and raced up the ladder." 218 ^ 

The chute system of pouring concrete 219 1/ 

Concrete legs of the viaduct leading to the great arch. ... 219 *^ 

Sinking rows of cylindrical caissons at Ward's Island for 

THE FOUNDATION OF ONE OF THE HeLL GaTE BRIDGE TOWERS. 232 V^ 

Taking down the wall, brick by brick 233 ^ 

The brick chute discharging into a cart 233 ^ 

Beginning to wreck the skyscraper 246 '^ 

The tower of the skyscraper dismantled 246 v^ 

"How foolish it was for me with my fly's weight to attempt 

to swing that ponderous see-saw." 247 "^ 



PICK, SHOVEL AND PLUCK 



CHAPTER I. 
A DISASTROUS MORNING. 

If any one had told me, when Dr. McGreggor so un- 
expectedly offered to send me to college, that inside of a 
week I would be begging to be let off, I should have told 
that person that he had softening of the brain, or something 
to that effect. 

A course in college was the one thing above all others 
that I had longed for, and when I realized that my dream 
was about to come true, there was not a happier boy in the 
whole world. All that day, I was *' treading air,'' as the 
saying goes, and Bill seemed almost as delighted as I was. 

**By George!'' he kept saying; ^'it's great, Jim. I was 
sure that Uncle Ed would send me, and I did hate to think 
of going to college alone after we had been chums so long. 
I had a feeling all the time that maybe Uncle Ed would foot 
your expenses too, and, you see, he would have, if Dr. 
McGreggor hadn't got ahead of him." 

We stayed up until the small hours of the night, talking 
over the splendid times ahead of us, and getting ready to 
leave on the following afternoon. There was one more 
thing we expected to see before leaving the city. In the 
aqueduct tunnel, on the Brooklyn side, there was a curious 

I 



2 Picky Shovel and Pluck. 

shoveling machine that did the work of a whole gang of men 
in clearing away the broken rock after a blast. Mr.. Jack 
Patterson, the superintendent at Shaft 21, had promised 
to take us over and show us this novel machine. We were 
rather sorry, now, that the trip had been arranged; for, 
with the opening of college only eight days off, we were 
impatient to get home. 

Shaft 21 was just at the brink of the East River, on the 
New York side, a deep hole, already 550 feet down, and 
still to be sunk 150 feet or more before turning at right 
angles to go under the river to Brooklyn. When we arrived 
at the shaft, we learned that there was trouble on hand. 
The last blast had uncovered a subterranean stream that 
came pouring in so fast that, before the pumps could be 
installed, the water stood fifteen feet deep, and was steadily 
growing deeper. 

They were just getting ready to lower a shaft-sinking 
pump when we came upon the scene. The "sinker," as 
Mr. Patterson called it, was a big brute of a machine, 
weighing two tons. At one end was the compressed-air 
engine, whose piston drove the plungers of the water-pump 
at the opposite end. A short length of rope-wound hose 
hung down from the intake end of the machine, while from 
one side near the middle extended an outlet hose, eight 
inches in diameter, and between five and six hundred feet 
long, for it was to reach all the way from the water-level to 
the top of the shaft. The "sinker" was suspended in slings 
from a derrick. 



A Disastrous Morning. 3 

"Jump on, boys/' called Mr. Patterson. "You are just 
in time to have a ride to the bottom of the shaft." 

We accepted the invitation with alacrity, and clambered 
aboard the broad back of the machine, holding on to the 
slings while the derrick lifted us up over the shaft and then 
down into the yawning hole. When the "sinker" touched 
the water, Mr. Patterson turned on the compressed air that 
was led down to the machine through a rubber hose, and 
the pump began to chug. 

"My, but there must be an enormous pressure in that 
hose!" cried Bill. "Look at the way she stiffens out." 

"A five-hundred-foot column of water must weigh some- 
thing," I remarked. 

"Yes, siree; there must be a pressure of at least two 
hundred pounds to the inch." 

Bill and I were standing at one side of the hose, while 
Mr. Patterson and his assistant were on the opposite side. 
I was just about to turn toward the intake end of the pump, 
when suddenly, without any warning at all, the hose burst 
loose with a roar. That huge eight-inch hose lashed around 
hke the tail of a harpooned whale, and knocked Bill off the 
pump, while the torrent that poured out of it nearly swept 
my feet out from under me, and would have carried me over- 
board too, had I not clung desperately to the cable sling. 
Bill was hurled clear across the shaft, ricochetting on the 
water, like a shell from a thirteen-inch gun, until he struck 
heavily against some timbers, and then sank out of sight. 

Without a moment's hesitation, Mr. Patterson jumped 



4 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. s^^i 

in after him, not even stopping to take off his coat or shoes 
(fortunately he was wearing shoes instead of boots). The 
deluge that gushed out of the squirming hose, Hke a young 
Niagara, did not simpHfy his task in the least. Bill did 
not come to the surface, and Mr. Patterson had to dive 
in search of him. The shaft was fairly well lighted with a 
cluster of electric-Hght bulbs, but they made little im- 
pression on the black water below. Nevertheless, I could 
not stand by idly with my chum drowning, so I slung off 
my coat and shoes, and plunged in, without giving a thought 
to submerged timbering or any other obstacles I might 
strike. It was impossible to see anything under the sur- 
face. All I could do was to grope blindly. At length, Mr. 
Patterson came up with Bill's unconscious body. In the 
meantime, the assistant superintendent had signaled for 
the bucket. In this my chum was placed, and we were 
hauled quickly to the surface with him. 

As Bill was being lifted out of the bucket, I noticed that 
his leg hung down like a rag, and I pointed it out to the 
doctor who came running up just then. He looked very 
grave and shook his head, but he bent his first efforts to 
restoring his patient to consciousness. Then, as Bill began 
to breathe, he cut away his clothing and found a compound 
fracture of his leg. While he administered some sort of 
an opiate to allay the intense suffering, as Bill was now 
entirely conscious, Mr. Patterson hurried off to summon 
an ambulance. 

'*If he has any folks around here, you had better send 



A Disastrous Morning. 5 

for them/' the doctor said to me in a low voice, so that Bill 
could not hear him. 

"The only one in the city that I know of is his uncle," 
I repHed. 

"Telephone to him to meet you at the hospital. It is a 
bad break. He'll be laid up for two months at least, maybe 
three." 

"Three months!" I gasped. 

"'Sh-h!" The doctor held up a warning finger. "There 
is no use in his knowing it just yet." 

"But he is going to enter college next week." 

"Oh, no, he isn't!" the doctor contradicted me. "He 
will have to forget about college for a while." 

It was with a sinking heart that I went to the telephone 
to call up Uncle Ed. As luck would have it, he was out; 
but the man at the other end of the wire said he would make 
every effort to find him. At any rate, he would be able 
to catch him at the club at one o'clock. 

I had barely changed my wet clothing for some dry togs 
that belonged to Mr. Patterson, when I heard the bell of 
the ambulance clanging madly as the vehicle raced through 
the crowded East Side streets. As it entered the yard, a 
swarm of people pressed in after it, and it was all I could do 
to shoulder my way through the press, but I was determined 
to board the ambulance, and ride with Bill to the hospital. 

At the hospital I was headed off into a sort of reception- 
room, while Bill was hurried into the operating-room. 
There I waited ages before an attendant beckoned to me, 



6 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

and conducted me to a room in the private ward where my 
poor Bill lay motionless on a cot. 

''He is just coming out of the ether," a nurse informed me. 

I sat down beside him. It made me grit my teeth and 
feel sick all over to hear him moan, now and then, and beg 
half deliriously for water. 

But finally, "Jim," came faintly from my helpless chum. 

''Yes, old chap. Here I am." 

"Jim," he faltered again, "how long am I laid up for?" 

I tried to reassure him. "You'll be out before very long. 
Your leg is banged up some." 

He was silent for a while, then, "It's broken .f^" he asked 
in a weak whisper. I nodded. 

A sudden twinge in his broken limb forced an involuntary 
cry of pain from him. 

"Oh, don't take it so hard. Bill," I remonstrated. "The 
doctor has fixed it all up, and you'll be well almost before 
you know it." I was stretching the truth to the limit, and 
Bill knew it. 

"It's a bad break, I know, and I'll be laid up for four 
months, just as my cousin was, and — " 

"Not more than three months, the doctor says," I inter- 
posed. 

"And," he went on, "next week, you will be in college, 
while I—" 

"Bill, you old chump, I'm not going to college this year." 
I made up my mind on the instant just what I was going 
to do. "It's all settled. I am going to wait over until 




*THAT EIGHT-INCH HOSE LASHED AROUND LIKE THE TAIL OF A 

HARPOONED WHALE." — See page 3. 



A Disastrous Morning. 7 

next year. Do you suppose I would go and leave you here 
all alone? No, siree! We are going through college to- 
gether, just as we did through prep school." I was talking 
very bravely, without knowing what Dr. McGreggor would 
have to say to my plan. 

"Jim, you're all right," said Bill, "but—" 

Just then Uncle Ed came in and interrupted Bill's 
remonstrances. 

It was with no little trepidation that I rang Dr. McGreg- 
gor's door-bell that night. I even forgot to say good 
evening, when I saw him, but burst right in with my ques- 
tion: "Dr. McGreggor, would it make any difference to you 
if I should put off college for another year?" 

"Eh? How's that? Are you afraid you cannot enter?" 

"No; it isn't that. Bill has broken his leg, you know, 
and is laid up in the hospital for three months — " I paused. 

"Yes; very unfortunate indeed. But what has that to 
do with you ?" 

"Why, he won't be able to enter this year, and you 
know we have always been chums in school, and we can- 
not bear to be separated in college; we want to be class- 
mates, and — " 

Dr. McGreggor did not relax his stern look. "Young 
man, what are you going to do in the meantime? Are you 
going to hang around on your father's hands, or do you 
expect me to furnish your keep?" 

I flushed with anger, and could not help saying, "I am 
no beggar, Dr. McGreggor; I am going to support myself. 



i 



8 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

Surely I can find some sort of a job here in the city, and if 
I can't, why, Fll go home and work in the paper-mill/* 

To my surprise Dr. McGreggor's stern face broke out 
into a kindly smile, and I realized that he had been merely 
putting me to a test. 

''You'll do!" he said, patting me on the shoulder. "Go 
ahead, and take care of yourself. My offer will keep five 
years, if necessary.'' 



CHAPTER 11. 
OVER THE SEA BY RAIL. 

Not because I couldn't find a job in New York, but 
because Mother thought that I had been away quite long 
enough, I returned home a few days after the events re- j^ 
counted in the previous chapter. But I stuck to the resolu- ^| 
tion made before Dr. McGreggor, and found a job in the 
office of a paper-mill about a mile up the river from our 
house. 

Bill's leg mended very slowly. I did not hear from him 
often, for he never was much of a hand at letter-writing. 

Time sped by faster than I had an}^ idea it could. When 
Thanksgiving Day arrived, who should walk in but Bill 
with his Uncle Ed and Bill walked without the trace of a 
limp, although he still carried a cane. I was taken com- 
pletely by surprise. But there was an even greater surprise 
coming. 

"What do you suppose, Jim.^" Bill burst in as soon as 
he saw me. "We're going to Panama to see the canal!" 

"Are you really.?" I exclaimed. "My, but that's great!" 

"But I mean we are going, you and I, dl by ourselves," 
explained Bill. 

"Yes, it's true," broke in Uncle Ed, laughing at my 
astonishment. " But don't thank me. It is Dr. McGreggor 

9 



lo Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

again. He has taken a great fancy to your boy/' he con- 
tinued, turning to Mother and Father. ^'A man came 
into our office a couple of weeks ago, and said he had just 
spent a month at Panama, going over the work in detail; 
and his twelve-year old son, who accompanied him, was 
almost as enthusiastic as he over the trip. That seemed to 
set McGreggor thinking, and three or four days later, he 
asked me how soon Bill would be on his feet again. 'He 
fis walking around now,' I told him. 'Well,' he said, 'why 
don't you send him to Panama to recuperate?' 'That's 
exactly what I decided to do, three days ago,' I replied. 
'And Jim will have to go, too,' he said. 'Certainly,' I 
answered. 'I have already written to his parents about it.' 
At which he flared up and actually had the nerve to call me 
down for meddUng in his affairs. 'If Jim can go,' he de- 
clared, ' / will send him !' So here, Jim, is a letter to you from 
him. He couldn't very well deliver his message in person." 

The letter was very characteristic of Dr. McGreggor, 
short and to the point, informing me, in very businesslike 
language, that he had arranged to give me a trip to Panama 
and such places as I might wish to see on my way there and 
back, and that he hoped Bill and I would comport ourselves 
as creditably on this outing as we had during our summer 
vacation. 

I was simply overwhelmed with delight. Bill had brought 
time-tables and guide-books along, and we sat down right 
then and there to plan our trip. "When can we start?" 
I asked Uncle Ed, in breathless excitement. 



Over the Sea by Rail. ii 

*^To-morrow, if you like/' he laughed; "to-day, if you 



must." 



We didn't waste much time getting ready. A week later, 
you could have found us aboard the "Oversea Limited," 
racing along the spine of Florida and down the kinky tail of 
coral reefs that reaches a hundred miles out to sea. We 
had come overland just to see this "ocean-going railroad." 

According to schedule, we were to leave the mainland 
at about four o'clock in the morning, arriving at Key West '| 
at 8 :30 a. m. Bill and I were determined to see it all even 
if we had to rise two hours before dawn and view it by star- 
light. When we did tumble out of our berths at five, in- 
stead of four, and rush out to the observation platform, we 
were disappointed to find, instead of a roaring ocean around 
us, nothing but an endless stretch of marshland, with a wide 
canal on each side of the road-bed. 

There was one man evidently as anxious as we were to 
view the scenery. "Isn't it wonderful!" he exclaimed, as 
we sat down beside him. 

"What, this.?" I asked in astonishment. "I don't see 
anything very wonderful about this swamp. I thought 
we were to cross the ocean, or, at least, a part of it." 

"We haven't reached the ocean yet," the man repHed. 
"Fortunately, the train is two hours late, and we shall have 
a chance to see the spectacular part in broad daylight. But 
there is much to admire right here." 

We thought he must be out of his head, but he went on to 
explain: "These are the Everglades, you know, the queerest 



12 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

kind of country you ever heard of. A man once told me, 
'There is not enough water in 'em for swimmin', and dee- 
cidedly too much for farmin'/" 

"I shouldn't think they could do much farming in a 
marsh," commented Bill, ''except to raise salt hay." 

"But this marsh is not anything Hke the kind we have up 
North. The water in it is not salt or stagnant, but good, 
pure, sweet, drinking water that is flowing all the time. Do 
you see these canals on each side of us? They were dug to 
furnish the road-bed we are traveling over. The quickest 
way to dig a canal is to dredge it. But there was not water 
enough to float a dredge, so what did they do but dig holes 
in the ground, which immediately filled with water, of course, 
after which they built dredges in these holes. Then these 
dredges began a march to the sea, eating their own channel 
through the mud and sand, and throwing up the material 
they excavated to build this roadway between them." 

"Pretty clever," we commented. 

"Yes, but it was not all as easy as that. Once in a while, 
they struck a ledge of rock. How do you suppose they got 
around that diflftculty?" 

"Couldn't they haul the dredges over.?" I asked. 

"A dredge is a pretty heavy proposition. No, they did 
something smarter than that. They built locks over the 
ledges, regular canal-locks. The dredge would enter the 
lock, the gate would be closed behind it, water would be 
pumped into the inclosure until it was deep enough to float 
the dredge over the rock, and, then, after the rock had been 



Over the Sea hy Rail. 13 

passed, the water in the lock would be lowered again, and 
the dredge would be let out of the gate at the opposite end." 

While the method of laying the road through the Ever- 
glades was interesting, the scenery was monotonous. But 
our new acquaintance whiled away the time by telHng us 
about the man who had conceived this wonderful railroad 
over the sea, about the young engineers who had carried 
the work through in the face of almost insuperable diffi- 
culties, and about the surveyors who got lost for days at a 
time in the maze of reefs. 

We passed a station just then, and saw on a siding a train 
of flat-cars, each with a huge wooden tank on it. 

^^That is the water train,'' explained our enthusiast. 
'^They have to transport all the water from the mainland 
along the line of the railroad, because they cannot get any 
decent water on the keys. The water and food problem was 
a pretty serious one when they first started building the line. 
Sometimes it took the supply-boat half a day to make its 
way around the reefs from one key to another only a mile 
ofF." 

Presently, we left the mainland and crossed over a draw- 
bridge to the first of the keys; but still there was very little 
of the ocean to be seen, except for a glimpse now and then. 

"I suppose it must be pretty shallow along the keys,'' I 
remarked, "or they would never have dared to build this 
line." 

*'That is true enough along here," he informed us; "but 
farther down, in some places, it is thirty feet deep at low 



14 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

tide. Yes, when they first started building along here, they 
thought that, in such shallow water, fills would do as well as 
bridges. So they dredged up mud and sand from the 
bottom and piled it up to make a roadway. Then they 
dumped riprap, or large rocks, along each side of the fill to 
protect it from the waves in stormy weather. Then, one 
day, a hurricane came along and began to amuse itself with 
the work those industrious men had been at for a year and 
a half. That was a real hurricane, and it instilled into the 
workmen, and engineers as wxll, a wholesome respect for 
West Indian storms. Many of the men were housed in 
quarter-boats, and it was supposed that they could ride 
out the storm at anchor in sheltered places offshore. But 
it was soon found that the flat keys offered no shelter at all. 
One boat with a hundred and forty-five men on board was 
torn from its moorings, carried out into the boiHng sea, and 
wrecked on a reef. There was an engineer aboard, and he 
was a hero — Bert A. Parlin was his name. Most of the men 
were in a panic, and huddled, terror-stricken, in the cabin. 
The wind was tearing the upper structure to pieces, and 
they were in peril of falling timbers. Those with cooler 
heads stayed outside on a balcony, to windward, where no 
flying timbers were likely to hit them. But the young 
engineer, even though he knew the risk he ran, went below to 
calm the frightened men and urge them to come out. When 
the boat broke up he perished, as did every man in the cabin, 
while the others clung to bits of wreckage. A number of 
them were picked up by steamers and carried to various 



Over the Sea by Rail. 15 

ports all the way from Liverpool to Buenos Aires. There 
were many heroes who perished that night. One man was 
all alone on a barge that carried an electric-light plant. He 
kept up his courage by stoking up his furnaces and keeping 
every light burning. People on shore watched the illumina- 
tion through that dreadful night, until suddenly the lights 
were quenched, and the watchers knew that the relentless 
storm had swallowed the barge, and with it a brave man. 

** After the storm had cleared, the engineers went over the 
sad wreck it had left in its wake. All the fills had been 
washed away. The water had dashed over the riprap, 
and the receding waves had sucked out the filling of sand. 
Even in the shallowest places the fills had disappeared. 
Evidently a different form of construction would have to 
be devised." 

**Isn^t this a fill we are going over now?'' asked Bill. We 
were passing over a narrow lane built right out in the water. 
It was a most fascinating sight in the light of the dawning 
sun. 

**Yes, this is a fill," went on the enthusiast; '^but, you see, 
there is no riprap at each side." 

He was right. The side of the fill looked like a smooth 
white beach. 

"That is a calcareous marl that they discovered here. It 
is soft and putty-Uke when fresh, but it hardens on exposure 
to the air. When it is plastered over the fills, it makes 
such a smooth finish that the waves can do nothing with it. 
When first put on, that marl had a terrible odor. The 



1 6 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

stench that went up from those fills attracted a host of 
turkey-buzzards who puzzled for days trying to locate the 
cause of it. 

"The next hurricane that struck the keys found the men 
ready. They scuttled their boats and took to dry land, 
because they realized that, in that region, the only safe 
harbor for their boats was under water, where neither wind 
nor wave could reach them. As for the fills, they stood the 
ordeal splendidly. The waves wrestled long and vigorously 
with the smooth marl beaches, but when the ocean finally 
acknowledged its defeat and calmed down, it had made 
little impression on them." 

"But all the gaps between the keys are not closed with 
fills, are they?" I asked. 

"Oh, my, no! There are eighteen miles of bridges, 
mostly heavy concrete arches, tied down with wooden piles 
driven into the rock." 

"Wooden piles driven into rock!" I gasped. 

"Yes, like everything else in this queer place, the rock is 
very peculiar. It is a sort of coraline limestone that has a 
hard crust, but underneath is quite soft. What they did 
was to punch holes through the crust with a steel punch, 
and then drive the piles through the holes into the soft 
rock with a steam-hammer." 

"You mean a pile-driver?" suggested Bill. 

"No; a steam-hammer which gives quick, sharp blows. 
If they had used a pile-driver, the piles would have sprung 
too much. With the steam-hammer they drove those piles 




A CONCRETE CENTIPEDE REACHING ACROSS THE SEA. 




LONG KEY VIADUCT, OVER TWO AND A HALF MILES LONG. 



Over the Sea hy Rail. 17 

In, twelve or fifteen feet. But before the piles were driven, 
they cleared all the sand off the rock at the site of the pier 
and sunk a cofFer-dam over the spot. The cofFer-dam in 
this case was a big box without top or bottom. When this 
had been sunk, the piles were driven. Then a layer of con- 
crete was laid on the rock to seal the bottom of the cofFer- 
dam so that they could pump out the water." 

"Do you mean they laid the concrete under water?" 

"Why, certainly. Concrete will set under water as well 
as in air, provided the water does not wash away all the 
cement before it hardens. They used 'tremies' for the pur- 
pose." 

It was unnecessary for him to ask us if we knew the defini- 
tion of "tremie." The question-mark showed only too 
plainly in our faces; so he went on to explain that a tremie 
is a pipe through which concrete is let down under water to 
the bottom of the cofFer-dam. "The first batch that goes 
down the tremie, acts as a piston to clear out the water in 
the pipe. As it spreads out on the bottom, it may lose much 
of its cement, but that does not matter, because it is to serve 
merely as a cover for the concrete that follows. The end of 
the tremie runs almost to the bottom, so that as fresh con- 
crete comes down the pipe, it pours out under this cover, and 
is not afFected by the water. 

"After the cofFer-dams were sealed with a layer of con- 
crete three to five feet thick, the water was pumped out and 
the piles were sawed off well below low-water level. Then 
the cofFer-dams were filled solid with cement up to the 



1 8 Pick J Shovel and Pluck. 

'springing' line, that is the line from which the arch was to 
spring, and, after that, they put in the forms for the arches." 

The first big bridge we struck was the Long Key Viaduct, 
a noble structure over two and a half miles long, made up of 
1 80 semi-circular arches of fifty-foot span, that carried us 
over the open sea, thirty feet above high-water mark. But, 
of course, we could see none of the grandeur of this bridge, 
as it was all underneath us. We were running straight out 
into the ocean. We might just as well have been on a very 
steady steamer. To the north was the Gulf of Mexico; 
south of us the broad Atlantic, as quiet as a mill-pond, 
giving no hint of the fury it could lash itself into when driven 
by the winds. 

By this time, many other passengers had crowded out 
upon the observation platform, which we were almost selfish 
enough to resent. The man who had been giving us all our 
information did not seem to care, though, and went on 
shouting his story above the roar of the train. Soon he had 
an interested group around him, even though he addressed 
all his remarks to us. 

"It's all wonderful," said our guide, *'but wait until we get 
to the big Knight's Key Viaduct." And that proved well 
worth waiting for. Seven miles of practically unbroken 
water was enough to make any one marvel. The indomit- 
able engineer had actually mastered the ocean. 

A turn in the road gave us a chance to see what we were 
riding over. A large part of the bridge was made up of steel 
spans. This was a concession to the ocean. The piers for 



Over the Sea by Rail. 19 

the spans could be made narrower and could be spaced 
farther apart than the piers of the concrete arches, thus 
offering less resistance to the waves in time of storm. 

"What if a hurricane should strike a train on this bridge?'' 
I asked. 

"If it were a real hurricane, I am afraid it would be 
*Good-by train.' But such a thing could not happen. This 
road is in touch with the Weather Bureau, and warnings are 
sent out well in advance of a serious storm. When such 
warnings are received, the train service is halted. Then, 
too, there is a block-signal system automatically controlled 
by wind gages that show a danger-signal when the wind over 
any of the bridges reaches or exceeds fifty miles an hour." 

A few miles farther on, we ran upon another viaduct, only 
a mile long, but an important one because, at that point, 
the water was thirty feet deep. From there on, the forma- 
tion of the keys seemed to change. They ran across our 
path instead of lying in the line of the railroad. There were 
many short bridges and fills that took us from key to key, 
until, finally, we reached Key West, the end of the line. We 
had traveled 106 miles off the mainland, using thirty keys as 
stepping-stones to take us to the most southerly city in the 
United States. 

Our train took us out to the end of a pier where a boat was 
waiting to carry us the rest of the way over the sea. Not 
until then did we realize that we had had no breakfast, and 
here it was five minutes after ten! 



CHAPTER III. 
THE CONQUEST OF THE CHAGRES. 

Much to our delight, we learned that our enthusiastic 
friend of the sea-going railroad was to be a fellow-passenger 
all the way to Panama. We became very well acquainted 
on the voyage. Mr. Hawkins his name was, and he seemed 
to have an almost inexhaustible stock of sea tales and other 
yarns with which he whiled away the long hours aboard the 
ship. 

It was early in the morning when our steamer tied up at 
Colon, the Atlantic end of the Panama Canal, and most of 
the passengers were up and ready to put in a long day of 
sight-seeing, because they were to sail again on the morrow. 
Near the wharf there was a train waiting to take visitors 
across the isthmus, and a crowd of excursionists flocked over 
to it. We were about to follow them when Mr. Hawkins 
detained us. 

^*You are going to stay here a few days, aren't you?" he 
asked. ''Well, then, why don't you see the canal right?" 

"If you will show us how, we'll be only too glad to follow." 

''Come along with me, then," he said, leading the way to 
a wharf where there were several launches. He picked one 
out that was manned by a Portuguese named Joe. 

20 



The Conquest of the Chagres. 21 

*' We'll get a much more impressive view of the work if 
we go up by water/' remarked Mr. Hawkins. 

It took us the better part of an hour to make the four-mile 
run up the old French canal, which brought us into the 
American canal within half a mile of the locks leading up to 
the great Gatun Lake. We were in luck to have a guide 
Hke Mr. Hawkins, who had been over the canal half a dozen 
times at least. He told us that Gatun Lake when finished 
would be eighty-five feet above sea-level, and would cover 
about 170 square miles. 

^'What puzzles me," put in Bill, "is why they had to 
make a lake. Was it just because they were in a hurry to 
open the canal, and couldn't wait to dig all the way down 
to sea-level?" 

"Oh, I know," I interrupted, eager to show off my knowl- 
edge. "They say there is only a two-foot tide at the 
Atlantic end, while at the Pacific end there is a rise and fall 
of twenty feet. If the canal were cut down to sea-level, the 
water would rush back and forth through it twice a day, in 
such a torrent that it would tear out the banks and wreck 
all the shipping." 

"But they could have a lock at the Pacific end to keep 
out the tide, couldn't they, Mr. Hawkins?" asked Bill. 

"Certainly they could," he answered; "but it isn't the 
tide they fear so much as the Chagres River. You have no 
idea how it rains here during the rainy season. Why, I've 
seen that river rise twenty-five feet in a night! There 
would be no keeping such a flood out of the canal if it were 



22 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

cut down to sea-level. So, instead of trying to keep the 
river out, the engineers decided to let it in and make use of 
it, only turning it into a lake instead, so that it can be kept 
under control. Accordingly, they have dammed up the 
whole Chagres valley at a place where it is about a mile and 
a half wide; and the reason they picked out that place was 
because there is a knob of rock in the middle of the valley 
where they could put the spillway, or overflow, and another 
mass of rock at one side to support the locks." 

''But," I protested, ''do you mean to tell us that that big 
dam is not founded on rock?" 

"It isn't Hke any dam you ever saw. Why, it's a hill of 
dirt half a mile thick at the base and tapering to a hundred 
feet at the top. And the funny part of it is that they built 
that dam with water!" 

"With water!" I exclaimed. 

"Yes; muddy water. First they dumped a lot of rock 
across the valley to make two walls half a mile apart. Then 
dredges sucked up mud from the sea and pumped it up a 
long pipe-line to the dam, where it poured out in a muddy 
stream between the two walls. The fine mud settled to 
the bottom, and in time filled the space between the walls, 
while the water flowed over them, or trickled out between 
the stones, or was sucked up by the torrid sun. In that 
way a plug, or core of clay, was built across the valley, and 
on it earth was piled and more mud was pumped in, until at 
last the top rose 105 feet above sea-level. 

"While they were building the dam, they had to provide 



The Conquest of the Chagres. 23 

a new and higher course for the Chagres River. The 
wicked old stream made a desperate struggle before they 
finally conquered it. The rock for the two walls was dumped 
from trestles built across the valley. They tried to run the 
rock wall right across the river, but before the last gap was 
closed, the current became so powerful that it swept away 
like chafF the huge rocks dumped into it. The river was 
putting up a better fight than they had anticipated. But 
finally they dropped a tangle of crooked railroad rails 
against the up-stream side of the trestles, which choked 
up the channel so that the current could not sweep the 
rock away. That was the last frantic struggle of the Chagres 
before it surrendered to the indomitable engineer. It is 
perfectly docile now. To be sure, it may fret and fuss a lot 
as it runs out of the lake over the spillway during the rainy 
season, but it cannot do any harm, because it is confined 
within a concrete channel. 

*'0h, hello! here we are in sight of the locks," exclaimed 
Mr. Hawkins as we swung out of the stream excavated by 
the French into the broad new canal dug by our own country- 
men. When I was here last, there was a dike across the 
canal, just below the locks to keep the water out. Do you 
see that guide wall there between the locks .^ It is to 
separate incoming from outgoing vessels. The construction 
of that wall called for some very interesting work. They 
could not find bed rock there without going seventy feet 
below sea-level. The material was too soft to support a 
steam shovel so they cut a gap in the dike and let in a suction 



24 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

dredge; then they closed up the gap behind the dredge, 
leaving it in a small pond. The dredge went to work 
digging out the bottom of the pond, and of course, as the 
bottom was lowered the water level in the pond was lowered 
and so the dredge worked its way downward. When I saw 
it it was floating about thirty-five feet below the level of 
the water outside and its suction pipe had about reached 
down to rock. After that I suppose they filled the pond 
again to sea-level, cut the dike, let the dredge out, closed 
the dike again, pumped out the water in the pond until the 
bare rock was exposed and then proceeded to build the 
foundations of the guide wall 'in the dry."' 

*^Say, what are all those boats doing?" interrupted Bill. 
''Aren't they going through the locks.?" 

''I beheve they are. By jiminy! here's our chance! 
Shake it up, Joe. See if we can't get in there behind that 
ladder-dredge." 

Joe grunted some sort of a protest, to which Mr. Hawkins 
replied with a piece of money that had an inspiring eflPect 
upon the Portuguese. We were all excited now as the little 
launch responded to our coaxing and raced for the lock. 

''Will they let us through?" I asked dubiously. 

"I don't know. But it won't hurt us to try, will it?" 
retorted Mr. Hawkins. "Here, Joe, creep in between the 
dredge and that tug. I don't believe they will ever notice 
a little toy boat like this." 

Whether they noticed it or not I cannot say, but we did 
succeed in slipping in with a crowd of about a dozen boats 



The Conquest of the Chagres. 25 

of all descriptions. We were no sooner in than two pairs of 
enormous steel doors began to swing on their hinges behind us. 

" Hurrah !'' cried Mr. Hawkins, slapping me on the back. 
^^Now here is an experience that you would have missed 
if you had followed the crowd aboard the excursion train.'' 

*^It's great!" I exclaimed. 

The lock we were in was about as long as four New York 
City blocks, and half again as wide as Broadway. There 
was something uncanny about the way those gates were 
closing behind us. They towered fully thirty-five feet 
above us. We had felt small enough, sandwiched in be- 
tween the other boats, but now, as we gazed at those pon- 
derous gates, we were dwarfed into insignificance. 

"What makes them move?" asked Bill, in an awed voice. 

Mr. Hawkins laughed. ''It does look mysterious, doesn't 
it? See those arms up there at the top of the gates? They 
run back through slots in the lock wall. Each arm is at- 
tached to a big gear-wheel, five feet in diameter. They 
call it a 'bull-wheel.' When the bull-wheel turns, it pushes 
the arm out and forces the gate shut. It takes a lot of 
gearing and a twenty-seven horse-power motor buzzing at 
high speed to make that bull-wheel turn." 

"I should think it would," said Bill. "How much do 
the gates weigh?" 

"Seven hundred and thirty tons each. They are eighty- 
two feet high and sixty-two feet wide, you know, and they 
are seven feet thick, but they are hollow, so that the water 
will buoy them up and relieve the hinges of undue strain." 



26 Pickj Shovel and Pluck. 

Slowly the massive gates swung to, until they met at a 
rather flat angle. Then we saw them squeeze tightly shut. 

"The mitering motors did that/' said Mr. Hawkins. 
''There is a seven and a half horse-power motor on each 
gate to lock them shut after the big bull-wheel has done 
most of the job." 

"Now what.^" I asked, as we turned from the fast-closed 
gates and looked forward. 

" Don't you see the water boiling around us ? It is pour- 
ing in from scores of openings in the floor of the lock. These 
walls are honeycombed with passages, some as big as a 
railroad tunnel, to let the water in. Just watch the mark 
on that wall over there, and you will see that we are rising." 

Sure enough, after watching a minute or two, the mark 
disappeared. The sensation was a curious one. It seemed 
as if those walls and the gates behind us were slowly sinking, 
while we stood still. 

It took nearly half an hour to fill that lock and raise us 
twenty-eight and one-third feet to the level of the next lock. 
From our humble deck we could not see over the walls 
around us. 

After we had entered the second lock, we stopped again 
while another double pair of gates was closed behind us. 

"But why do they have a double pair of them.?" asked 
Bill. 

"Just as a precaution," answered Mr. Hawkins. "What 
do you suppose would happen if one of those gates should 
give way? Why, the whole Gatun Lake would come pour- 



The Conquest of the Chagres. 27 

ing through the locks. The water would tear everything to 
pieces and wash out the whole works, like as not. Some- 
thing Hke that happened on the Soo Canal once. That is 
the canal that connects Lake Superior with Lake Huron. 
Two boats were in the lock about to go down, when along 
oame a third one that wanted to go up. The captain of the 
last boat gave the engineer the signal to stop, but for some 
reason the engineer failed to respond, and while the captain 
frantically clanged the gong and shouted down the speaking- 
tube until he nearly cracked his throat, the boat sailed 
steadily on until it crashed into the lock-gates, smashed 
them open, and let loose such a deluge of water that all of 
the boats were wrecked. They are not going to run the 
risk of such an accident here. Chains are stretched across 
the entrance to the locks to stop runaway ships; then there 
are double pairs of gates, so that, if one gives way, the other 
will hold, and, in addition to that, there is an emergency 
gate that can be swung across the entrance to the highest 
lock of each flight; but, as if these were not precautions 
enough, the ships will not be permitted to enter the locks 
under their own steam. Little electric locomotives will 
run along the tow-paths or tracks at each side of the locks 
and tow the ships through." 

I had noticed that the ^^ tow-path,'' as Mr. Hawkins called 
it, made an abrupt rise from one lock-level to the other, and 
I remarked that the slant looked too steep for a locomotive 
to climb. 

*'But this is a rack-railroad," explained Mn Hawkins. 



28 Pick, Shovel and Pluck 

''What do you mean by that?" 

"Why, in the middle of the track there is a rail formed 
with teeth in it, and on the locomotive are toothed wheels 
that mesh with the teeth of the rail so that they can't slip, 
and they drive the locomotive steadily up the steep inclines, 
and, when descending, keep it from running down too fast. 
The racks will enable the locomotives to haul enormous loads 
without slipping. It will be a great sight to see a giant, fifty- 
thousand-ton ocean liner towed through these locks by two 
baby electric locomotives with two more locomotives trailing 
along behind to check the boat and keep it from smashing 
through the gates." 

As we were passing out of the third lock, we went by one 
of the emergency gates. It was an enormous structure, like 
a railroad bridge. 

''In case of trouble," said Mr. Hawkins, "they would 
swing the bridge around across the lock, and let down a lot 
of brackets or * wicket girders' into the water to the bottom 
of the lock; and then they would let down a lot of plates 
against the girders to cut off the flow of water." 

As soon as we had passed out of the locks, we made for 
shore and began a survey of our surroundings. To the 
south of us stretched the great Gatun Lake, and the dam 
really did look more like a hill than anything else. 

We walked along the dam to the spillway, but the gates 
were closed, because thewater was still filhng the lake. At one 
side was the power station, where part of the river was even 
then manufacturing electricity to pull the towing locomotives 



The Conquest of the Chagres. 29 

and work the valves and gates of the locks, not only at Gatun, 
but at Miraflores and Pedro Miguel on the Pacific end, as 
well. 

*'0h, hello!" cried Mr. Hawkins, suddenly. "There is 
Colonel Goethals. Come on, boys; Til introduce you to 
him." 

*'Does he know you?" asked Bill, in an awed voice. 

"We'll see. They say he remembers every one he meets. 
I walked around with him for an hour, last year, and it was 
wonderful the way he seemed to know every man on the job 
by name." 

I had expected that the big chief of the Panama Canal 
would be dressed in gaudy uniform, as befitted a high military 
personage, but the man that Mr. Hawkins went up to was 
clothed in plain white tropical garb, and wore a wide- 
brimmed straw hat. 

"Oh, how do you do, Hawkins?" he said, as if he had 
always known him. "Back again, are you?" 

"Yes, Colonel." Mr. Hawkins beamed with pleasure. 
"Fve brought some friends with me, a couple of waifs I 
picked up on the way down here." 

"Glad to know you," said the colonel, giving us each a 
hearty grasp of the hand. "I suppose you have come down 
here to see us blow up Gamboa, to-morrow?" 

"Yes," I stammered, utterly overwhelmed at the honor 
of shaking hands with so great a man. 

That was all there was to the interview, yet we couldn't 
have felt more tickled had he spent an hour with us. 



30 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

''You see, he did remember me!" exclaimed Mr. Hawkins, 
triumphantly, after Colonel Goethals had moved on. ''He 
is a wonderful man. He is a big father to all the men down 
here. Every Sunday morning, his house is open to any man 
on the job. If any one has a grievance, he goes and tells it 
to the colonel. If any one wants a word of encouragement, 
he stops in to see the chief. If you are here next Sunday, 
you must go and see the reception. It is a wonderful sight. 
And yet he is not the one to stand for any fooling. When I 
was here last time, the colonel was showing around a party 
of congressmen. One of the younger members of the party 
was acting very smart, asking foolish questions, and pro- 
posing idiotic stunts. They were putting up the lock-gates 
at Gatun just then. This young man proposed that the 
party climb up the framework of the gates, just as a lark. 
When nobody paid any attention to the proposal, he started 
to climb up himself. It was a rather perilous undertaking 
because of the concrete buckets that were swinging by his 
head, threatening to knock him off. He realized the fact 
after he had climbed up about twenty-five feet, and started 
down again. When he reached the ground, he strutted up 
to Colonel Goethals and asked, 'What degree are you going 
to confer on me for performing this daring feat.?' 'I shall 
confer on you the degree of "C.F. " ' said the colonel. *And 
what does that stand for?' asked the congressman. 'For 
"Champion Fool,"' quietly answered the colonel, while the 
whole party broke out into roars of laughter." 

We had hoped to take a trip on the lake in the afternoon, 



The Conquest of the Chagres. 3 1 

but Joe found a chance to take his launch down through the 
locks, which upset our plans. We spent all that day follow- 
ing Mr. Hawkins as he wandered about the work at Gatun, 
studying the minutest details. Finally, as it grew dark, 
we took the train for Panama, where we arrived too tired 
to do any more sight-seeing that night. 

The following day we were to witness one of the most im- 
portant events in the history of the Panama Canal. The 
slice of ground that had been left to keep the Chagres River 
out of Culebra cut, during the work of excavation, was to be 
blown up with a giant blast of dynamite, and then the waters 
of Gatun Lake would reach all the way from the Atlantic to 
the Pacific locks, and the canal would be all but completed. 



CHAPTER IV. 
SEVERING THE ISTHMUS. 

When I awoke the following day, the first thing I did was 
to jump out of bed and run to the window for my first 
glimpse of the Pacific Ocean. What I saw puzzled me at 
first, and then filled me with consternation. 

"Hey, Bill!" I shouted. "Wake up!" 

Bill turned lazily in bed and settled down for another nap. 
But I laid hold of him and began to haul him out of bed. 

"Wha's matter?" he muttered, without opening his eyes. 
"What time is it?" 

"That is what I can't make out," I cried excitedly. "It 
seems as though it must be morning, but the sun is just 
setting in the west. We've been Moped' to make us sleep 
so long, and here we've missed the blowing up of the dike. 
Somebody's going to suffer for this." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Look out of the window there," I directed. 

Bill rubbed his eyes and blinked at the red ball of the sun 
that seemed about ready to plunge into the ocean. 

"Well?" I remarked, after he had gazed at it for a full 
minute. 

"It's rising, Jim," he said quietly. 

"But how can it be. Bill? That's the Pacific Ocean, isn't 
it?" 

32 



1 


pf^y.„ , 


ii 


H 


^ 


m 


i 

1 
! 
i 

i 

Trar 


flj 


^^^^^BBBwl|lt '^ 


^1 




m 


iw] 




'V' 


i<?:t'>:.^-l:<l"^"^'"'~ 


fe 


"^%:*' 




_v 





FIRST WATER DISCHARGING THROUGH THE SPILLWAY OF GATUN DAM. 




BUILDING THE GATUN DAM WITH A STREAM OF MUDDY WATER. 




Copyright, International News Service 

GAMBOA DIKE BEFORE THE EXPLOSION. 




Copyrij^hl, Jiyron Co. 

BLOWING UP GAMBOA DIKE WITH FORTY TONS OF DYNAMITE. 



Severing the Isthmus. 33 

"Can't help it, Jim. It's rising just the same. Watch it 
now." 

I had to admit that he was right. "Then that can't be 
the Pacific Ocean," I asserted. 

"I am not so sure about that," declared Bill, going over 
to the table, where he picked up a map that he had pur- 
chased the night before. "Look here." 

Then I realized for the first time that the Isthmus of 
Panama has such a decided twist in it that the Pacific end 
of the canal is actually southeast of the Atlantic end, and 
that while people at Panama see the sun rise out of the 
Pacific, those at Colon see the sun set over the breakwater 
into the Atlantic Ocean. 

When, later, we told Mr. Hawkins about our fright, he 
burst into a hearty laugh. "I made almost as bad a mistake 
myself," he said. "When I first came down here, I had a 
notion that as long as I was on the Pacific coast, I would 
take a run up to San Francisco. Much to my amazement, 
I learned that it would take me nearly twice as long to get 
there as it had to come down from New York. Then I got 
out my map, and found that Panama is almost due south of 
Pittsburgh, and that the distance from New York to Colon 
is only 1,970 miles, while from San Francisco to Panama is 
3,280 miles. And here is another queer bit of geography. 
If you were to fly in a bee-line from Panama to Yokohoma, 
Japan, you would make for the Gulf of Mexico first, and then 
strike up through the United States somewhere near Galves- 
ton, Texas, pass out over the Pacific somewhere near Port- 



34 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

land, Oregon, and touch the Aleutian Islands on your course. 
You don't believe me, do you? But you just stretch a string 
from one place to the other on a school globe some time, and 
see whether I am not right." 

It certainly seemed impossible, but we were ready to 
believe almost anything by this time. 

The earlier part of the morning we spent wandering about 
the quaint old city of Panama, one of the oldest cities in the 
New World, while Mr. Hawkins entertained us with stories 
of its former importance and great wealth, and of its down- 
fall at the hands of Morgan's pirates. 

"Hello!" exclaimed Mr. Hawkins, after we had returned 
to New Panama. ''There is the old 'Birdena.' That 
is the first vessel that ever floated in the Culebra cut. 
When the French builders of the canal were getting 
near the end of their tether they tried to raise money 
by making out that the canal was rapidly nearing com- 
pletion, so they filled a hollow in the cut with water, 
hauled a boat up there, floated it in the lake, photographed 
it and then sent copies of that photograph broadcast 
throughout France to help raise money for the canal. 
When we took over the canal the old boat was found, cut 
in two, and lying high and dry in the cut. We put her 
together again, hauled her back to the sea and put her 
to honest work." 

Along toward noon, we took a special train to see the 
blowing up of the Gamboa dike. I supposed, of course, 
that the dike would look like a dam separating the lake 



Severing the Isthmus, 35 

from a deep cut, but instead it was a narrow tongue of land 
with plenty of water on each side of it. 

''Has there been a leak in the dike?" I asked. 

''No/' said Mr. Hawkins. "The water was siphoned 
into the the cut on purpose, so that the dynamite would do 
its work better. You see, with one side of the dike backed by 
a lake and the other by nothing but the open air, the powder 
would be liable to burst out only the unsupported side." 

There was logic in this, of course, but I was disappointed. 
I had expected to see a mighty torrent rush out of the lake 
into the cut. As a matter of fact, the water in the cut was 
about six feet lower than that of the lake, and there was quite 
a rush of water, as we were soon to see. 

Bill and I walked down toward the dike, but a guard 
stopped us before we had proceeded very far. 

"It's loaded," he explained, pointing to the tongue of 
land. "You mustn't go any nearer." 

"How much dynamite is there in it.^" asked Bill. 

"Forty tons." 

"Whew!" I exclaimed, "It's going to be a big blast, 
isn't it.?" 

"Oh, pretty big, but not as big as some we've had." 

"How many blast-holes are there in the dike.?" 

"About thirteen hundred; 1,277 holes, to be exact; 
and if all those holes were put together end to end in one 
straight line, they would reach nearly eight miles!" 

A large crowd had collected to witness the impressive 
spectacle. The blast was to be fired at two o'clock. My 



36 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

watch told me that it was five minutes of two. A message 
was cabled to Washington, stating that everything was ready. 
Every one was waiting with bated breath. Then, far off in 
Washington, District of Columbia, President Woodrow 
Wilson touched a key. Instantly an impulse of electricity 
started on its long race to Gamboa. At intervals along the 
course the race was taken up by relays of electrical energy. 
The whole relay race over land and under the sea occupied but 
a fraction of a second, and then, with a mighty blast, thirteen 
hundred charges of dynamite burst open the dike, hurling tons 
of earth and rock into the air. The concussion was terrific, 
and as the echoes resounded from the hills, scores of steam- 
whistles and thousands of voices cheered the historic event. 

^'Hurrah!'' yelled Mr. Hawkins. "The isthmus is 
severed!" 

Great clouds of poisonous gases hung over the dike. 
Then as they gradually dissipated, we saw through the rifts 
a wide gap torn through the dike, and the water rushing 
madly through the opening. 

"By George, that was a big blast!" declared Bill. 

"Yes," agreed Mr. Hawkins; "the biggest I ever saw. 
And yet," he continued, "when we talk about our great 
achievements, I cannot help but think of the wonderful 
things that happen in nature, and how puny are our per- 
formances in comparison. Talk about big blasts! Do you 
know, once there was a volcano in the Malay Archipelago 
that exploded. It was in 1883, before you were born, but 
maybe you have heard of it — the volcano of Krakatua. The 




Copyright, Underwood b" Underwood 

CUCARACHA SLIDE. DOTTED LINE SHOWS ITS ENCROACHMENT ON THE CANAL. 




TYPICAL MORNING FOG RISING OUT OF CULEBRA CUT. 




ONE OF THE BIG DREDGES AT WORK. FORTY TONS AT A SINGLE SCOOP. 



Severing the Isthmus. 37 

explosion blew off the whole top of a mountain. Bang! 
and 30,000 people were lost in a tidal wave! A cubic 
mile of earth was shattered into dust! That is twenty-five 
times as much material as has been excavated from the whole 
of this canal so far, and you'll see that there has been quite 
a bit of excavation here, when you take a look at the Culebra 
cut in its deepest part/' 

On our way back to Panama, we planned to get ofF and 
see the great cut of which we had heard so much and of 
which we had caught only a glimpse from the railroad on 
our way up. A fellow-passenger told us that there was 
trouble at Cucaracha. A slide had filled up the cut to a 
height of eighty feet above sea-level. I had heard a great 
deal about these slides, and had imagined that they were 
something like avalanches; but now I learned that they are 
very deliberate in their movement, creeping sluggishly down 
at a rate of two or three feet a day. In preparation for the 
flooding of Culebra cut, all the excavating machinery had 
been removed, and the slide, taking advantage of their 
absence, had gradually closed in on the cut, and now it was 
holding back the waters that had poured through the gap 
in the Gamboa dike. A gang of men was kept at work 
trying to keep a ditch open across the slide, but it kept 
closing up. Finally, a ton or two of dynamite was ex- 
ploded in the slide; but the heavy clay closed right in again. 
It was not until two days after the destruction of the Gam- 
boa dike that a trench large enough to admit a good stream 
of water was opened up. 



38 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

''It looks as if the canal were far from done, yet/' I 
remarked. 

''You just wait until those big dredges get into action/' 
said Mr. Hawkins. "They'll make short work of that slide. 
When I was here last year, this valley was fairly teeming 
with activity — engines puffing and snorting, machinery 
clanking, whistles screeching, wheels rumbhng — a steady 
roar of action. Do you know, there was more trackage on 
the isthmus and more cars too than many a full-fledged 
railroad owns, back home, — say the Boston and Albany, for 
instance. But a few big dredges are going to take their 
place now and handle those slides more efi^ectually than all 
that excavating machinery on wheels. And yet," he mused, 
"those sHdes have been bothersome. They have made us 
dig a valley instead of a gorge through the Culebra hills/' 



CHAPTER V. 
RAISING A WRECK WITH AIR. 

"Well, for the land's sake! If there isn't my friend 
Fogarty, the wrecker I was telHng you about," exclaimed 
Mr. Hawkins, as he jumped off the train at Panama. 

" Where .^" we cried, traiHng after him and looking in vain 
for a man sufficiently large and powerful to fit our notions of 
the individual who had figured in some of Mr. Hawkins's 
most exciting stories, and who made it his business to save 
battered wrecks from the clutches of the ocean; but we 
fetched up suddenly as Mr. Hawkins stopped before a slight 
sandy-haired man who was actually shorter than either of us. 

They greeted each other like long-lost brothers, and then 
Mr. Hawkins turned to us, saying, *'Boys, I want you to 
meet the hero of all those yarns I spun on the boat coming 
down here." 

"So you have been making a hero out of me!" laughed 
Mr. Fogarty, noting our bewilderment; "and here these 
young chaps have been looking for a swaggering giant, with 
long mustachios and all the rest of the dime-novel outfit." 

"Well, we were somewhat taken aback," I admitted; 
but I could tell from the firm grip he gave me, from his alert, 
keen, blue eyes and tensity of bearing, that he was a master- 
ful man* 

39 



40 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

^*You must tell us all about yourself/' pursued Mr. 
Hawkins. ''Where have you been for the last five 
years? What are you doing? Where are you stopping, 
anyway?" 

"Easy there, now; easy!" protested Fogarty. "You 
spring too many questions at once, and all you'll get at 
present is an answer to the last one. I am stopping at your 
hotel. Yes, I saw your name on the register this morning. 
Let's get back there at once. I'm as hungry as a bear. 
Never could talk on an empty stomach, anyway." 

Over the dinner-table that evening, he kept us spellbound 
with story after story of the most amazing experiences. He 
was certainly an unusual character, absolutely fearless, 
whether combating a storm or facing, single-handed, a mu- 
tinous crew. Although a contractor, he was himself, a diver 
of rare skill, and had had many a stirring adventure under 
water. He talked for two hours about the events that had 
happened since he last saw Mr. Hawkins. 

"But what are you doing now?" Mr. Hawkins finally 
asked. 

"Oh, I'm salving a steamer off Crooked Island. You re- 
member the Madeline^ don't you, the steamer that struck 
on Bird Rock last summer?" 

" Bird Rock ? You mean in the Bahama Islands ? That's 
a long way from here, and does not account for your presence 
in Panama." 

"Well, there is a wreck up the coast here aways, and I have 
been up to look her over. A ten-thousand ton ship, high 



Raising a Wreck with Air. 41 

and dry on the sands, carried up by a hurricane. I may take 
the job as soon as I get through with the Madeline. " 

^^Oh, tell us how you would get a ship like that off the 
sands/' interrupted Bill, eagerly. ''We saw them raise a 
wreck in New York Bay last summer by passing chains 
around under the hull and fastening them to pontoons, and 
letting the tide raise the pontoons; but Fm blest if I see 
how you would work on a ship that is high and dry on the 
sands/' 

''Well, in such a case the only thing to do is to bring the 
ocean to the ship, isn't it?" 

"By dredging a channel to her?" 

"Certainly. That's simple enough, isn't it?" 

"Suction dredging, I suppose?" queried Bill, calling to 
mind the work we had seen on the Ambrose Channel, during 
the summer. 

"Yes; suction dredging, bucket dredging, and 'bull 
dredging' " 

"What?" 

"Yes; we would use bullocks or oxen on any job along 
these shores. The oxen haul a sort of scraper behind them 
that scoops up the sand. We use the oxen to clear away 
the sand well below water level and those beasts will work 
until they are in way up to their necks, half walking, half 
swimming. I have had to use as many as ten pair of oxen 
a day. That is a very different kind of canal digging from 
the kind you have seen here, but we have to take what we 
can get. Besides the bull dredges we would use drag scrapers 



42 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

or scoops along each side of the ship, and haul them up by 
steam winches to hoppers on the masts; from there the sand 
would pour down chutes well beyond the shores of our 
channel. Then out of the bow of the ship we would have 
pipes to suck up the sand and throw it out of the way. We 
have to be careful with the excavating or there will be 
trouble." 

"What kind of trouble?^ 

'* Why, I saw a wrecked ship once that was broken in two, 
simply because a stupid blockhead dug away all the support 
from under the forepart of the vessel. You know a ship 
is not built rigid like a steel girder, but is intended to be 
supported quite evenly by water throughout its length, 
otherwise it will buckle of its own weight. When we have 
dredged a pretty deep channel, we fix heavy anchors, well 
off in deep water, and run stout hawsers from them to steam 
winches on the ship, and we keep steam up in the winches so 
that they will pull with a constant strain on the hawsers. 
Then we wait for a storm to break the friction.'' 

'*A storm!" we chorused. 

"Yes; anything that will jar a vessel. With each jar it 
will yield a trifle to the pull of the hawsers, and the steam 
winches will take in the slack, and so, gradually, the ship is 
worked out into deep water. It is when a good howling storm 
comes up that we have a chance to see what our men are 
made of. I tell you it takes nerve to work a wreck out into 
a raging sea when the waves are going over the bow and 
breaking under the bridge." 



Raising a Wreck with Air. 43 

*^By George, it must be exciting! Are you doing the 
same kind of work at Crooked Island." 

''No; entirely different. You see the Madeline is on 
the rocks with her bottom stove in. She is on hard and fast, 
with a reef sticking through into her center compartment." 

''Then I suppose you will have to raise her with pontoons 
and chains.^" 

"Oh, no; we couldn't do that. It is too rough off Bird 
Rock for any such work. Why, there is not a speck of land 
between there and Africa to shelter us from the storms. 
No; we are going to lift the vessel off with air." 

Another gasp of astonishment greeted this startling state- 
ment. 

"Why, there is nothing very strange about that. We 
are closing the top of each compartment with a stout air- 
tight deck, and we are using divers to repair any leaks in the 
bulkheads and make them tight. When that is done, we 
shall pump air into the compartments, forcing the water out. 
That ought to float her free, and then we'll tow her around 
into the shelter of a cove and repair the leaks in the bottom 
at leisure. Say, why don't you come along and see the 
work.^ My son Howard is on the job now, and he'd be 
tickled to death to have company." 

Bill looked at me expectantly. "Say, I wonder if we 
couldn't 1" 

"When do you sail, Mr. Fogarty?" I asked. 

"Day after to-morrow the Caroline is going to touch 
at Colon." 



44 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

''We might cable for permission, Bill. What do you 
say: 

''Sure! It's the only thing to do." 

That very night our cable was sent, and the next day the 
answer came: 

Yes. Meet Uncle Edward, New Orleans, January twenty. 

Hotel Imperial. 

McGreggor. 

"New Orleans!" exclaimed Mr. Fogarty. "Why, that 
is a thousand miles out of your course. I don't believe he 
knows where Crooked Island is." 

"Well, anyway, he has given us over a month to make it 
in. Do you think the ship will be off the rocks by that 
timer 

"Unless something unexpected happens. You never 
can tell in the wrecking business." 

It was in the afternoon, several days later, that we sighted 
Crooked Island. The sun had set before we reached Bird 
Rock, but the wreckers were on the watch for Mr. Fogarty, 
and a motor-driven life-boat put out to take him on. A 
rope ladder was thrown over the side of the ship, and we had 
to scramble down it as best we could, by the flickering light 
of a lantern, and then jump into the bobbing boat beneath 
us. 

It was rather rough, and the night was dark, but the 
pilot of our little craft threaded hi^ way through the phos- 
phorescent sea, between the coral reefs, as handily as if it 
were daylight. 



Raising a Wreck with Air. 45 

Before long we reached the wreck, and then came aa 
upward scramble on another dangling rope ladder. 

'^ Hello, Howard!'* cried Mr. Fogarty, as he reached the 
deck. ^^Fve brought you some company. This is Bill, 
and this Jim, a couple of lads I kidnapped from Panama. 
It's up to you to give them a good time, answer as many of 
their questions as you can, and make them feel at home." 

The whole crew was there to meet us and, curiously 
enough, there was a woman in the group. 

''What is she doing here.^" I asked Howard. 

"Oh, that's the captain's wife. As soon as we started 
work here the captain came back to stay by his ship and 
his wife came along to stay by him." 

"Do you stay here on the wreck both day and night?" 

"The Madeline is a passenger vessel," said Howard, 
"and there are much better accommodations on board 
than you could get ashore." 

"What if a storm should come up.?" 

"Oh, we aren't afraid of anything short of a hurricane, 
and there hasn't been one of them around here in ten years. 
Besides, we don't look for them at this season." 

The living and sleeping accommodations on board were 
very good indeed. The only thing unpleasant about our 
quarters was that the ship had a decided Hst to port, and 
we had to sleep in berths that slanted uncomfortably. 

When morning came, we helped Howard with his duties, 
the principal one being to work one of the hand-pumps that 
sugjplied a diver with air. We took turns with him at the 



46 Pick J Shovel and Pluck. 

pump-wheel. In the afternoon, when he had a few hours to 
himself, Howard proposed that we fish for sharks. 

*' Sharks!" I exclaimed, incredulously. ''There can't be 
any around here, or the divers wouldn't dare go down." 

"Oh, there are plenty of them. Haven't you seen how 
all the divers take bayonets with them.?" 

"Why bayonets.?" 

"Because they are three-cornered. If they used a knife, 
they couldn't keep it from turning when they moved it 
through the water quickly. It would slide around just like 
a fan when you whip it through the air." 

Howard had made a telescope out of a wooden bucket 
with a pane of glass set in the bottom. We got into a 
small boat, and, leaning over the side with the glazed end 
of the telescope submerged, we could see plainly to a con- 
siderable depth. Half a dozen sharks were in sight. "Lit- 
tle fellows," Howard called them, only five or six feet long. 
Howard had a bamboo pole with a bayonet lashed to it. 
He would poise this spear above the water while he peered 
through his telescope, and when one of the fish came within 
reach, he would hurl it at him. But quick as he was, they 
were too quick for him. They did not seem a bit timid, but 
would come tantalizingly near, only to dart away the instant 
we struck at them. We spent weeks at this fruitless game, 
and must have grown more expert, because, at last, we 
succeeded in hitting them now and then, although we never 
did much more than scratch them with our crude weapon. 

One of the divers who took quite an interest in us said 



Raising a Wreck with Air. 47 

he would show us how to catch a real shark. *^The way 
to do it is at night. They bite better then." 

That night he fastened an enormous hook to a stout line, 
baited the hook with a big chunk of meat and cast it over- 
board. Then he set a lantern on the rail to attract the fish. 
But two or three dozen flying fish came bounding over the 
rail and finally one of them hit the lantern and knocked 
it over. 

"All right/' said the diver, "We'll fish without a light 
then." So he sat down in the dark for an hour or so, until 
he began to doze. Suddenly there was a pull on the Hne 
that jerked him oflF his stool and nearly pulled him over- 
board, for he had very foolishly wrapped the line around 
his wrist. He gave a yell that brought us all to his assist- 
ance. But the line snapped and Mr. Shark went oflF 
triumphant, with a nice piece of bait and a six-inch hook 
for supper, while Mr. Diver had a badly lacerated wrist to 
nurse for about a week. Needless to say he gave us no 
more advice on fishing for sharks. 

After the novelty of the situation wore off*, time went 
very slowly on board the Madeline. Once or twice we 
donned diving suits and went down into the hold of the 
ship, but we never ventured outside where the sharks were 
so thick. Diving here was very different from diving in 
New York. We couldn't see very much under the surface, 
but when we looked up through the water toward the sun, 
we could see the rigging all outlined in the beautiful colors 
of the rainbow. Occasionally we went off on an expedition 



48 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

ashore, but there was little to see except for a few native 
huts. Therefore it was with great joy that we heard Mr. 
Fogarty say, one day: 

"Well, boys, we'll have her off in the morning sure! She 
is holding fine, and the air-pumps will have her afloat before 
daylight." 

Sometime during the night, I was awakened by a violent 
rocking of the boat, which was a novel experience after 
spending a month on a vessel so firmly wedged in the rocks 
that it was as steady as a house. I tumbled out of bed and 
Hghted a candle. Just then the ship gave such a sudden 
lurch that it rolled Bill out of his berth and sent him sprawl- 
ing on the floor. 

"Wh-what's happened.^" he cried, rubbing a bruise on his 
head and trying to get up. 

''The ship is afloat, I guess." 

"You guess!" he exclaimed. "Well, believe me, it xV, 
and what's more, they are going to have no cinch towing 
it around into the cove!" 

Just then a wave Hfted the ship high and brought it down 
on a rock with a crash that made the old vessel tremble 
stem to stern. The candle was dashed out of my hand 
and rolled off somewhere under the berth, leaving us in 
darkness. 

Some one staggered down the passageway and hammered 
our door open. It was Howard, with a lantern. 'Say, 
fellows! it's blowing great guns. Dad says it's going to be a 
real hurricane, and we've got to give up the ship and make 




*I MADE OUT THE LIFE BOAT AND STRUCK OUT FOR IT." — See page 50. 



^ 




I^H 


3 






^^^^Jk^J^ 


^^^ 


^^^V| 


^^^^m 








^iwg^^gi^fflm 


M^Ht' ^^ 


"' ^. '^39i^^^l 




&I 


g^ 


^^^^1 


IHI^^I 









ONE OF THE UNITS OF THE FLEXIBLE SHAFT. 



Raising a Wreck with Air. 49 

for shore. And, I can tell you, it's got to be some storm 
before Dad will give up to it. Get your things on, quick.'' 

"That's what we're doing, as fast as we can," I said, 
groping for my clothes. "Bring your light here; I can't 
find my shoes!" 

"What's happened to my collar?" cried Bill, in desper- 
ation. 

"Oh, you swell! what do you want of a collar — or shoes 
either, for that matter? I tell you the old ship can't weather 
this storm; the only way they can save her is to sink her, 
and we'll have to swim for it." 

"Swim for it!" 

"Sure! you can't expect to launch a boat in a hurricane. 
Besides, every boat we have is smashed except the motor 
hfe-boat. That is standing by, waiting to pick us up." 

It didn't take us a minute to complete our toilet after that, 
and we rushed out into the night; at least we thought is was 
still night. As a matter of fact, it was after sunrise, but the 
sky was black with the storm. The wind was howling 
through the rigging, and huge, light green waves topped 
with steaming foam poured over the lower decks, making a 
most terrific noise as the iron doors were slammed against 
the plating. About a hundred yards to the leeward, we 
could see the motor life-boat battling against the waves as 
she struggled to stand by us, while the big hfe-boats on deck 
were going to splinters. 

"Hurry up, boys!" shouted Mr. Fogarty. "Put on these 
life-preservers and swim for it!" 



50 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

"But how can a fellow swim in such a sea as this?" I 
protested. 

"It's up to you," was the only sympathy I got. "You 
can't stay here. Come, now, dive in, and the wind will 
carry you over!" 

Already a number of the crew had taken the leap. We 
could see a couple of bobbing heads. 

"Come on in, fellers, I'll race you!" cried Howard. 

"But how about my suitcase?" wailed Bill. 

"Forget it, and think about your life," was Mr. Fogarty's 
advice. "Here, wait a minute, Howard. Let me see if 
your life-preserver is on right. There now. Git!'' 

In a jiffy, Howard was over the rail. A moment later, he 
bobbed up on the crest of a wave, and then disappeared from 
view. While Bill and I hesitated, a great mountain of green 
water came over the side of the ship, picked us off our feet, 
and carried us along, fighting and struggling in a smother of 
foam. It seemed as if I was being turned over and over 
for an eternity. When, finally, I came to the surface, there 
was nothing in sight but billows, with curling crests that 
threatened to beat the life out of me. I dived through an 
ugly comber and was nearly suffocated in the foam, which 
seemed charged with a choking gas Hke soda-water. Then, 
as I was carried up again by a wave, I made out the Hfe-boat 
and struck out for it. In a few minutes, that seemed like 
ages, I covered the distance, and, thoroughly exhausted, was 
fished out of the water with a boat-hook. 

Howard had already arrived, and, much to my relief, Bill 



Raising a Wreck with Air. 51 

was picked up a couple of minutes later. We watched the 
rest of the crew plunge from the wreck one by one and make 
the perilous trip. Finally the captain and his wife and last 
of all, Mr. Fogarty made the leap. Then, with every soul 
accounted for, we headed for the cove. 

The storm was growing fiercer by the minute, and our tiny 
craft had the fight of its life, making its way past the treacher- 
ous rocks. My, how it did blow! and the rain swept down 
in torrents. I thought we were heading for shelter, but even 
in the cove there was such a sea that it was all we could do 
to land. 

There we were, a party of wreckers, wrecked. We had 
come off with nothing but our lives, and we were lucky at 
that. It was a three-day storm, the wildest hurricane that 
had struck that coast within the memory of the oldest in- 
habitant. It swept away over three hundred houses. 

Mr. Fogarty overheard us bewailing the loss of our clothes. 
"And is that all you have to worry about!'' he exclaimed. 
" Vm out fifty thousand dollars. That wreck is a total loss 1 " 

He was right. When, after the storm, we visited the 
wreck, we found that it had been stripped clean. The ship 
had been pounded on the rocks until the hull was all crushed 
in, the boilers and engines had fallen through the bottom, 
and the whole stern had been smashed in. 

We had seen all we cared to see of wrecking, and so we 
booked on the first httle native schooner that left the island 
for Nassau. 



CHAPTER VI. 
FIGHTING THE SEA WITH AIR. 

With our limited number of acquaintances it seemed 
almost beyond belief that we should find an old friend in 
such an out-of-the-way place as Nassau. We ran across 
him down by the quays. He was sitting on the ground, 
leaning against a post and smoking a corn cob pipe; a huge 
sombrero hid him so completely that we would have passed 
him by unnoticed, had he not removed his hat as we came 
along to get some tobacco that he kept in a pouch in the 
crown. 

''Goodness, gracious! Jim," cried Bill. "Look at that 
head of hair. Did you ever see anything redder.?" 

"It reminds me of Tim, the diver, we saw last summer," 
I exclaimed. "You remember how he looked?" 

^'Say, I believe it is Tim," answered Bill. 

The man overheard the last remark and looked up. 

"You're right," he said. "Tim it is, but who in the ." 

A look of recognition flashed over his face. "Why you're 
the two kids that come around when we was raisin' the 
Marathon. What are you doing down here, so far from 
home.? You ain't lost, are you?" 

*'No, zve are not; but nearly everything we had !$• We 
were on a wreck and the wreck was wrecked, and '* 

52 



Fighting the Sea with Air. 53 

"Eh? What's this, a conumdrum ?" protested Tim 
much mystified. 

I made a fresh start and told him the whole story of our 
experiences aboard the Madeline. 

"I know that man Fogerty well/' declared Tim. "I've 
worked for him. He's a nervy chap all right. A good 
swimmer he is, too. Helped me out of a bad trap once. It 
was when we was working on the wreck of the Luhinia. He 
sent me down to look her over. In them days I wasn't 
wearin' a lead belt, but had back and breast weights on 
instead. I had been down all over the boat and was just 
going to give the signal to pull me up, when somethin' 
grabbed me by the straps of me back weight and held me 
fast. It made me hair stand on end, at first, because I 
couldn't think what had a hold of me, and I couldn't turn 
around to see. Then I remembered as how I had been lean- 
in' against a big kedge anchor, and I guessed as how the 
flukes of that anchor had got hooked in me straps. You 
know it ain't so easy to reach around to the middle of your 
back when you ain't got nothin' on, but when you're in a 
rubber suit, all blowed up with air, like a pufF fish, there's no 
use tryin' at all. But I did try just the same. I twisted and 
wriggled and jumped this way and that, hopin' to work my- 
self loose; then I pulled and strained, tryin' to bust them 
straps, but it wasn't no use. I was caught for fair. I give a 
signal that I was in trouble, but not to pull me up. Then I 
begun to do some figurin'; we had only one diving suit with 
us, because this was just sort of a first look-over, and that one 



54 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

suit was on me. It looked as if I had to stay there strapped 
to that anchor for a good spell, and already I was most wore 
out. *Tim' I sez, 'you're here for keeps, all right. They'll 
never pull you up with that sinker tied to you.' There was 
a green tender at the other end of the life-Hne, there was no 
knowing what he'd do. I couldn't put much hope in him, 
but I hadn't figured on Fogerty. The first thing I knowed, 
he come divin' down to see what was the matter. He was 
some diver, too. Why, that feller could swim like a pearl 
diver. Mind you, it was forty foot clear from the surface. 
I never see a white man, as could get around under water like 
him. He seen right away how I was caught by the anchor 
and tried to slip the strap off the flukes. But he couldn't 
work me free, so he taps on me helmet and signals as how 
he'll be down again in a minute, and up he goes like a sky- 
rocket. After a bit he comes diving down again with a knife 
in his hand and cuts me loose." 

"A pretty narrow escape," Bill commented. 

"Well, not exactly," said Tim, ''I know'd I was all right 
as long as they kept pumpin' air down to me, and I could 
have stayed under a whole day, if I had to, but just the same 
it don't feel good to be tied fast to a four-ton anchor with 
seven fathoms of green water over your head, and I was 
mighty glad to get loose. I had a worse time than that once in 
Boston Harbor. A tramp steamer was run down in a fog, and 
she sank with three of her crew. I got the job of bring- 
in' up their bodies. I got two of them all right, but when 
it come to the third, I couldn't find it nowhere. I went all 



Fighting the Sea with Air. 



55 




FIG. I. WHERE THE FIREMAN WAS FOUND OVER THE 
DOUBLE-END BOILER. 



56 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

over that boat, specially in the engine room, because he was 
a fireman. I begun to think he wasn't there; but I have a 
repitation for always findin' me man and I didn't want to 
give in, so I sez, *Tim,' I sez, 'that feller's here somewheres, 
and its up to you to find him.' So I starts to look again, 
around the boiler room. Of course I couldn't see much. 
All I could do was to feel around, and I went over every inch 
of that room. Then I happened to notice that the big iron 
door of the smoke-box over the boilers was swinging back 
and forth. There was just enough swell on to keep that 
door swinging." 

*'But I thought," interrupted Bill, ''that there were no 
waves under water." 

*'No; of course there ain't no waves," said Tim. "But 
if there's waves on top, it keeps the water movin' down 
below for six or eight fathoms. Any diver will tell you that. 
Well, as I was saying," he continued, "that smoke-box door 
was swingin' gently, back and forth, and it come to me like 
a flash that me man was up there, so I climbs up and walks 
in. I couldn't see a thing there, but I felt around over the 
pipes and sure enough there was me man all right, tucked 
in up over the boilers. I give a chuckle as I picked him up. 
'Tim,' I sez, 'they can't get the best of you.' Just then as 
if she heard me, the ship give a heave and that smoke-door 
slammed shut." 

The diver paused to enjoy the expression of horror on 
our faces. "Did it cut off your air tube," gasped Bill.? 

"Oh no, but it's mighty lucky it didn't. The latches on 



Fighting the Sea with Air. 57 

this door was hanging down so that the door couldn't shut 
tight. That left a narrow crack which kept the door from 
pinchin' off me air supply/' 

"But if the door wasn't latched," I interposed, "you could 
push it open, couldn't you?" 

"Say, I guess you never seen one of them doors. It 
would take three men to lift one of them. I pushed for all 
I was worth, but it wouldn't budge. 'Tim,' I sez, *you can't 
do it. You might as well wait until the boat gives another 
heave and opens the door.' So I set down alongside the 
dead man for company." 

Company! It gave me the creeps to think of sitting down 
there in that black hole with such a gruesome companion. 

"But didn't you signal for help.^" inquired Bill. 

" Signal .f^ No; 'twas no use. I was way down in the 
engine room. They couldn't get no signals around all them 
turns. All I could do was to wait. The boat heaved gently 
once or twice, knockin' my side partner against me, but it 
never pitched just right to swing the door open. 'It's a long 
wait, Pard', I sez, after we've been there about fifteen 
minutes; 'but she's bound to swing open some time, and then 
we'll make a quick get-away.' Well, sir, we must have been 
there in that hole forty-five minutes, if it weren't an hour, and 
I was just saying to meself 'you're in Davy Jones' locker this 
time for sure, Tim/ when the old ship up-ended gently and 
that door opened quiet-like, as if nothin' was the matter. 
It was a minute before I could think what had happened. 
Then I let out a war-whoop, and jumped out of there like I 



jg Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

was shot out of a cannon. I was for getting back to the top 
as fast as I could, but I stopped meself and sez *Tim/ I sez, 
'You're partner's in there,' I sez,* go and get him out before 
that door slams shut again.' So I gets a long poker and 
jams it back of the door, so it can't slam shut, and mash 
my head off, while I drags me partner out. Then I hauls 
him up the hatchway and gives me tender the signal." 

Both Bill and I heaved a sigh of relief when he finished 
his story. Tim chuckled. 

"I better quit tellin' ye such yarns or ye'll be havin' bad 
dreams." 

**0h, don't stop, Tim." 

**Well, I don't know as I have anythin' particular to tell 
you about." 

''What have you been doing since we saw you last sum- 
mer," I asked. 

"Nothing unusual. Been working on the Y anion off 
Newport. They tried to raise it with compressed air, like 
the Madeline you was tellin' me about, and say, talk of com- 
pressed air, they tried a new one out there. You know we 
had trouble with storms all the time. There was no pro- 
tection to the Southeast. Well, a feller came along one day 
and says he'd fix that; he'd build a pneumatic breakwater for 
us." 

"A pneumatic breakwater?" we queried, much mystified. 

''Yep, that's what he said, and we thought he was off his 
head. 'It won't cost nothing much to put up a small air 
wall,' he sez, ' 'cause I only sets it up when a storm is on. 



Fighting the Sea with Air. 59 

You think rm crazy/ he sez. 'Oh no,' I humors him, 
fearin' he might get violent if he's crossed. 'I beheve every 
word you say.' 'No, you don't, he sez, 'but I'll show you 
something,' and he pulls out a picture. 'There's a place on 
the Maine coast,' he sez. 'Yes, it looks Hke Cooney's dock,' 
I answers. 'You're right,' he sez, 'that's the spot, and 
maybe you know there's no shelter for a boat there when the 
wind is blowing up well from the Northeast.' 'You're 
right,' I answers. *They always have to run out and "get 
around into the cove.' 'Well,' he sez, 'I've fixed it now. 
I've put a pneumatic breakwater off the end of that dock,' 
and with that he flashes another photo at me. Well, by 
jimminy, there it was, the same place, and the wind kickin' up 
a nasty sea, but just off the dock there was a line of foam, 
and inside that, the water was calm as a sheltered cove. 
And just to show that the breakwater was only air and not 
rock, there was a big motor boat across the line of foam. 
'This is nature fakin',' I protests. 'Your photographer is 
playin' tricks on ye.' 'No,' he answers; 'this ain't no fake. 
I tell ye just how we does it. It's as simple as you please. 
You know, where there's a reef,' he sez, 'even though it may 
be thirty foot under water, it sets up currents which breaks 
up the waves, when a storm is on, and you have still-water 
in the lee of that reef. Well, all I does it to set up them cur- 
rents with air pressure instead of a reef. I've laid a pipe off 
that there dock, and that pipe is perferated. Then I has an 
air compressor on shore and when a storm blows up, I 
pumps air into the pipe with enough pressure to clear the 



6o Pick J Shovel and Pluck 

water out of it, and send a stream of bubbles up to the sur- 
face. That's my reef/ he sez. ^Them air bubbles starts 
currents in the water, as breaks up the waves/ '' 

" But," burst in Bill, calling to mind the hurricane weather 
we had just been through, *^I should think a good sized wave 
would be too powerful to be stopped by bubbles; why, it 
would sweep right over that line of air. You know we have 
just been through some pretty heavy weather, and we know 
something about the power of the sea." 

''Well, that's just the way I begun"to talk," declared Tim, 
"and he starts right in to explain the thing with algebry and 
geometry. I couldn't follow him very well, for the reason 
Fm a bit rusty on them subjects, but I got him when he 
explains how the water in the waves don't travel with the 
waves, it just goes around and around in a loop, and his 
pneumatic breakwater, breaks up them loops and kills the 
wave. 'At any rate,' he says, pointing to the pictures, 
^there's me evidence, and I've got a commission from the 
contractor to try this scheme off the YantonJ he sez, 'to 
protect ye from the storm.' 'That's good,' I sez, 'I wish ye 
all success.' Well, sir, he tried it." 

Tim paused. "It didn't work, did it.'^" I asked. 

"Sure it did. He laid a four-inch iron pipe about seventy 
feet off to wind'ard in four or five fathoms of water, with 
quarter-inch holes in it, every six inches. Then he con- 
nected it up with the air compressor. Well, early one morn- 
in', I was woke up by the boat rockin' violent. Green 
water was dashin' over the port-hole of the cabin, and the 



Fighting the Sea with Air. 6i 

waves was washin' clean over the deck. It was somethin' 
awful the way we pounded on that reef. Then I jumps up 
and wakes up the breakwater feller, and sez, ^ We've come 
to call your bluff. Now's your chance to deminstrate your 
pipe line.' Well, he goes down to the engine room and turns 
on the air, and by jimminy, there is a line of spray shoots up 
and turns them waves into foam. It js the most wonderful 
sight you ever see. The waves kept a-thrashin' away at 
that pneumatic breakwater. Big combers would come 
curling over on it and then they'd tumble over and break 
all to pieces. The ship stopped poundin' and there we lay 
as snug as you please, until the storm was over, protected 
by a wall of air." 



CHAPTER VII. 
A HOLE IN THE SEA. 

"But you haven't told us yet what you are doing here in 
Nassau, Tim/' said Bill. 

"Well, this here is another queer proposition. You see 
that barge out there?" he said, pointing to a boat that did not 
look as if it could possibly possess any unusual features. 
"Well, they've doggonedest contraption on her for takin' 
movin' pictures under water." 

"Moving pictures!" 

"Yep; and they've hired me to be the hero and star actor 
in the performince." 

"But I don't see how they can take moving pictures under 
water," declared Bill. "There can't be light enough to snap 
them as fast as they ought to." 

"Well, I don't know nothing about that," said Tim. I 
ain't hired to take the pictures. All I know is they had me 
down there all yesterday morning, and its blame hot divin' 
in these tropical waters, believe me. They're goin' to take 
me out again this afternoon. You'd better come along and 
see how it's done." 

"Could we, do you suppose?" 

" Sure. I'll tell the captain you're old friends of mine, and 
he'll take you along as a personal favor. He's a very 
reasonable man." 

62 




a* 

Qi 
O 

o 
g 

> 



o 

PQ 
> 




u 

w 
Pi 



w 

X 
H 

o 

o 
J 

Ok 

X 





- - ^ 


f^sM 






i 


r 




^^^^^S^SbS^i 




w 





SUBMARINE GARDEN SEEN FROM THE HOLE IN THE SEA. 




NATIVE DIVER IN A DUEL WITH A SHARK. 



A Hole in the Sea. 63 

Mr. Wallace, the man whom Tim called "captain," showed 
up a little later and proved to be fully as "reasonable" as 
our friend said he was. He declared it would be a pleasure 
to take Tim's "personal friends" along, so we jumped into 
the motor boat that was waiting for him, and were soon on 
our way to the barge. 

"How do you make the photographs, Mr. Wallace?" I 
asked. " Have you a glass pane in the bottom of the barge ?'' 

"Oh no; we do much better than that," repHed Mr. 
Wallace, with a smile. "We make a hole in the sea and set 
our motion picture apparatus in that." 

"A hole in the sea!" I exclaimed. "You're fooling." 

"Oh no, Vm not. That's exactly what we do. We 
lower a chamber through a well in the bottom of the barge 
with a big tube connected to it, and then we go down inside 
the tube and take photographs from a window in the cham- 
ber. You just wait until you see it. I will take you down 
and you can watch Tim at work on a wreck. There is an 
old blockade runner under the barge that was wrecked during 
the Civil War. Tim's going to go down and pick up some 
cannon balls and any other treasures he can find while we 
kinematograph him at his work." 

As we came up to the barge, we noticed that it was named 
very appropriately "Jules Verne." When we got aboard, 
while Tim was donning his diving suit, Mr. Wallace ex- 
plained to us how the tube was constructed. It was built 
up of " units " as they called them, each unit consisting of two 
steel rings three feet in diameter, connected by little steel 



64 



Pick J Shovel and Pluck. 




A Hole in the Sea. 65 

plates, cleverly hinged so that they could fold inward like an 
accordion or a Japanese lantern. The units were a foot 
deep when extended, but only three inches deep when col- 
lapsed. Ten units bolted together formed a ''section," and 
over each section there was a sleeve of heavy rubberized 
canvas to keep the water out. Some men were putting 
together a section as we went aboard, which gave us a 
chance to see just how the tube was constructed. 

''You might just as well go on down, boys," said Mr. 
Wallace, "and have a look around while we are waiting for 
Tim." 

"But how do you get down," I asked. "I don't see any 
ladder." 

"Why, step on the rings of course." said Mr. Wallace. 

"But isn't there an air-lock?" 

"No, we don't need any," was the reply. "Don't you 
remember what I told you? This is a hole in the sea, and 
it's an open hole all the way down to the chamber forty feet 
below us. It wouldn't matter if it were four hundred feet. 
That's the beauty of this system. If we want to go deeper, 
all we need to do is to bolt more tube sections on top. We 
have no bother with air pressure and the caisson disease, no 
matter how deep we go. As you climb down you will notice 
how the pressure of the water collapses the tube. You see 
it adjusts itself to the pressure." 

"But I don't understand why you need this Japanese 
lantern construction," remarked Bill. 

"So as to have a very flexible tube," answered Mr. 



66 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

Wallace, ''that won't smash, but will bend if it strikes any- 
thing. That's very important, you know, because we often 
let the barge drift with the tide, and if we had a rigid tube 
we would surely crush it, or the photographing chamber, if 
we struck anything.'^ 

Mr. Wallace led the way down the shaft. It did not look 
very inviting to crawl down such a tight hole — it was only 
twenty inches in diameter — but curiosity overcame our 
misgivings and we made our way down cautiously after him. 
At the bottom of the long shaft, we dropped into a spherical 
steel chamber, five feet in diameter. It was pretty close 
quarters for three persons. The motion picture apparatus 
was not there, but Mr. Wallace showed us the three-inch 
glass covered port-hole, through which the pictures were 
taken and a second larger port light above it through which 
the operator could see. From this port-hole we could look 
out through a big funnel that projected six feet from the 
chamber and had at its outer end a pane of French plate 
glass five feet in diameter and one and one-half inches thick. 
To keep the glass from being crushed in by the pressure of 
the water, air was pumped into the funnel with a hand pump 
until a gauge showed that the pressure on the inside of the 
pane was equal to the water pressure outside. 

The view from that chamber was wonderful. The water 
was as clear as glass, and there was no difficulty in making 
out objects at the bottom for a considerable distance. Sea 
growths, such as we had seen with our water telescope at 
Bird Rock had looked rather flat and uninteresting. Now 



A Hole in the Sea. 67 

from our position at the bottom of the sea, they took on an 
entirely new aspect. Tall sea ferns waved gently in the 
current and were outlined with iridescent colors, while 
brilHantly colored fish darted about among them. Directly 
before us was the rotted hulk of the old blockade runner, 
resting on a bed of coral. There was not much left of the old 
ship, but I did see a rusted cannon and a few cannon balls; 
also an old bell and a small iron-bound oak chest, that im- 
mediately suggested treasure to our romantic eyes. 

"FU bet it's filled with gold," cried Bill. 

''We'll soon find out,'' declared Mr. Wallace. "Tim has 
orders to bring it up." 

Presently Tim was ready to pose for his picture and the 
motion picture camera was lowered into the chamber. A 
few moments later Tim was lowered to the bottom before us 
and immediately began investigating the wreck. The first 
thing he did was to send up the treasure box, but alas it 
proved to be empty. 

Although we had both been down in diving suits and knew 
that air must be constantly bubbling out of the air valves, we 
were astonished to note what a big stream of bubbles poured 
forth as Tim walked around. We reahzed then why sharks 
never attack a diver. 

"Sharks!" sniffed Mr. Wallace, contemptuously. "They 
are big cowards. They are afraid of anything unusual. 
They give our boat a wide berth just because of this strange 
apparatus hanging down from it. Why, we haven't had a 
chance yet to snap any of the big fellows with our camera; 



68 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

but we are going to try to get some to-morrow. You'll 
have to come and see the fun. I succeeded in purchasing 
a sick horse to-day and we are going to have him shot and 
used for shark bait. That ought to bring them around. 
Then, I have found a native who has a reputation for fighting 
sharks and he is going to furnish us with a real battle under 
water." 

With such an interesting program set before us, it is 
needless to say that the invitation was not refused. The 
next day with the carcass of a horse in tow, the barge was 
moved out to the harbor entrance on the edge of the ocean, 
where sharks were apt to be found. The horse was anchored 
near the photographing chamber and then the native diver 
stabbed him in several places, so that his blood would 
attract the big fish. Then we sat down and awaited de- 
velopments. 

For a long time nothing was to be seen. Then I made out 
a great sea monster gliding stealthily by the boat and peering 
at the bait. He kept rolling his eyes at our photographing 
chamber, however, and seemed very suspicious of it. In a 
moment he disappeared. After a considerable wait, we saw 
the fellow again; but this time he came up with two com- 
rades. All three reconnoitered, but although the bait was 
tempting, they dared not attack it. The same maneuvers 
were repeated. The three sharks swam away and after a 
time came back with further reinforcement, until there was 
quite a school of the big fish hanging around the bait, but 
not one of them dared to approach it very closely. All day 




Copyright, Byron Co. 

A CROWD OF BOATS GOING THROUGH THE LOCKS. 




Copyright, Brown b* Dawson 
VIEW OF THE LOCKS, SHOWING ONE OF THE TOWING LOCOMOTIVES. 



A Hole in the Sea. 69 

long we waited for the sharks to attack the horse, and at 
night, a large Hght was lowered over the side of the barge, 
so that we could continue our vigil. 

That light, by the way, was very interesting. It was 
made up of nine mercury vapor lamps, of 2400 candle power 
each, and each had a head light reflector, so that a very 
brilliant light was shed, furnishing plenty of illumination for 
taking pictures at night. 

As the night wore on, with nothing happening, we took 
turns watching from the photographing chamber. The 
next morning the horse was still there, untouched. We were 
growing very impatient. Mr. Wallace consulted the native 
diver. He bade us wait a little longer as the sharks were 
merely getting up their courage and might begin their 
attack at any time. Along towards noon, he told us that 
the sharks were growing very restive and were surely getting 
ready for business. 

All of a sudden one big fellow made a rush for the horse and 
tore off a large chunk of meat. In a moment another 
monster appeared, then another, and almost before we 
realized what was up, there was a perfect swarm of the big 
brutes tearing at the bait and fighting each other for a chance 
to get at the carcass. 

One of our men baited an enormous hook with a large 
chunk of fresh meat and succeeded in hooking one of the 
biggest of the lot. Then came a desperate struggle as the 
men tried to haul the fish towards the barge. The shark 
had not swallowed the bait, and part of it protruded from his 



70 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

mouth. Quick as a flash another big brute came along and 
snatched away the protruding bait. Gulping the meat 
down the ugly fellow turned about and attacked the shark 
he had just robbed. But although the hook was still caught 
firmly in the first shark's jaw, he was by no means helpless 
and he fought back savagely. A dreadful battle ensued 
which was most exciting to watch. Of course, our sym- 
pathies were with the poor fellow with the hook in his mouth, 
and when despite his handicap he overcame his cowardly 
adversary and gobbled up portions of him, we cheered with 
delight. His fight earned him his freedom. The cable 
that held him was hauled up until the fish was nearly out of 
water; then it was chopped off. Like a flash the shark dis- 
appeared. We were sorry we could not relieve him of the 
hook and piece of chain that dangled from it, but after the 
game fight he had put up, we were sure he could take good 
care of himself. 

Jn the meantime the other sharks were making short work 
of the horse. By throwing baited hooks among them, 
several were captured. We, down below in the photograph- 
ing chamber, did not realize what a struggle the men were 
having, above, trying to land their fish. 

Presently all the sharks disappeared almost as suddenly as 
they had come, except one big fellow who hung around, 
eyeing the tube and photographing chamber. Mr. Wallace 
went up on deck and called the native diver. ''There is a 
fellow out there," he said, ''who hasn't had enough. I guess 
he is waiting for you/' 



A Hole in the Sea. 71 

"Oh, ah ain't afraid of him/' replied the negro. ''Ah'U 
fight him fo' you." 

After the sight we had just seen about the carcass of the 
horse, it seemed Hke murder to send a man down in those 
waters. It didn't look as if he had a ghost of a show, but the 
fellow insisted that there was no danger. The motion 
picture camera was loaded with a fresh film, and when every- 
thing was ready the negro dived into the water armed with 
a short dagger. We expected a lively tussle, but it was all 
over in an instant. The shark saw him and turned over, as 
sharks always do when attacking their prey, but the diver 
dodged under the big fish, drove the steel blade into a vital 
spot and rose to the surface triumphant. 

He had done a very clever job, but unfortunately it was 
entirely out of the range of the motion picture camera, 
although Bill did succeed in getting a "still" picture of 
It with a fast camera of Mr. Wallace's. I learned then for 
the first time that a motion picture camera has a very 
much smaller range than an ordinary camera. Mr. Wallace 
tried to explain to the man that he would have to kill 
another shark, but this time perform the work squarely 
in front of the funnel of the photographing chamber. 

After a long wait another shark appeared, possibly at- 
tracted by the one that the diver had just killed. It was 
getting late and Mr. Wallace was so anxious to obtain a good 
motion picture of a shark battle that he declared he would 
undertake the job himself. We all protested, of course. 

"I don't know why I couldn't do it," he said, "I used to 



72 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

live in the water when I was a boy. Fm sure I can dive as 
well as that native, and I think I have as much brains as he 
has." 

''But you haven't the skill/' we remonstrated. 

"I have watched these shark fighters, often," declared Mr. 
Wallace, "and I don't believe there is anything to it. All 
you need to do is to dive under the shark quickly and stab 
him while he is deliberately turning over." 

Despite all our objections he insisted on undertaking the 
perilous attack, declaring that he would stage the fight so 
that it came directly in the view of the motion picture 
camera. Seeing that he would have his way, the operator 
of the camera descended, while Mr. Wallace prepared for the 
dive. He could see very clearly through the water and 
watched the big fish moving slowly by the barge. Suddenly, 
when the shark was almost directly in front of the photo- 
graphing chamber, he made a quick, clean dive, came up 
under the fish and drove the knife into it. In another mo- 
ment he appeared on the surface again, swimming for the 
barge. We all gave a cheer as we pulled him out of the 
water; but much to Mr. Wallace's disappointment, the 
shark was not killed, but merely wounded. We could see 
the big brute swimming away. He described a great circle 
that brought him back again opposite the photographing 
chamber, a few minutes later. Just as he got in range, there 
was a sudden splash, and we realized that Mr. Wallace had 
dived to make a second attack. This time he succeeded 
in striking a vital spot. Mr. Wallace swam back, glowing 



A Hole in the Sea. 73 

with triumph as he saw the carcass of the fish slowly sinking 
to the bottom and drifting away. 

"Shark fighting is great sport/' he declared. **I think 
ril have to try some more of it.'' 

"We are going to take some motion pictures of sponge 
fishing to-morrow, boys," he continued, "to show just how 
they haul up the sponges here with a pole hook, instead of 
sending divers down. I am sorry you can't wait over 
another boat to see it all." 

"You aren't half as sorry as we are," we replied. 



CHAPTER VIII. 
BARING THE MYSTERY OF THE "MAINE." 

Darkness overtook us before our steamer crept past the 
grim old Morro Castle and entered the harbor of Havana. 
We did not warp up to a dock, but anchored out in the middle 
of the^bay while the Cuban health authorities boarded the 
vessel to see that we brought no disease with us. 

'*We have come to anchor just over the spot where the 
Maine was sunk/' I heard a man say to a companion, as he 
peered over the rail into the water below. "There must be 
reHcs of that disaster directly under us/' 

"Why, I thought they had carried it all away and sunk 
it!" the other fellow said. 

"It was only a small part of the battle-ship that they 
buried at sea,'' answered the first speaker. "Most of it 
was such a tangle of junk that all they could do was to haul 
out the bigger pieces and cut off those that projected above 
a thirty-seven and one-half foot depth. The rest they left 
buried in the mud of the harbor bottom." 

"It is too bad they buried the old hull. It should have 
been towed back to the United States; or, if that was im- 
possible, the Cubans should have found a place for her — to 
commemorate their independence." 

74 




Pi 

Q 

g 

u 

w 

w 

H 
O 



U 



H 



o 

Q 
W 

Q 

a 

H 



Baring the Mystery of the ''Maine,'' 75 

*'They have a piece of the Maine now. The after-turret 
of the old ship was presented to the Cuban Government, but 
it is still waiting to be set up in a place of honor." 

Bill's sharp elbow suddenly dug me in the ribs. "We'll 
have to hunt up that relic to-morrow and see if we can't get 
some one to tell us how the ship was raised. The work must 
have been very interesting." 

I might write a whole chapter about our queer experiences 
in Havana: How after the officials had satisfied themselves 
that we were fit persons to enter their country, they gave us 
each a little ticket of admission; how we were ferried over 
to the custom-house, where our baggage was thoroughly 
examined; about the funny hotel with its yard inside, in- 
stead of outside, of the building; about the lizard I found 
in my bed, and the centipede Bill found in his shoe, the 
next morning. But this is not a travel story, and I must 
stick to engineering facts. 

Early the next day we were astir. Our first quest 
after breakfast was the relic of the Maine. We found it at 
last, lying neglected on a dock, covered with rust and en- 
crusted with the barnacles and oyster shells that had 
anchored themselves to it during the fourteen years it had 
lain under tropical waters. As we gazed upon the noble 
old turret that had once stood so proudly on one of the 
finest ships of our navy, a couple of men came up whom we 
recognized immediately as the two we had overheard talking 
about the Maine the evening before. 

*'It is too bad," the taller one was saying, ''that you 



76 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

couldn't get do\(^n here last year, when they had the coffer- 
dam around her." 

**It must have been a pretty big coffer-dam to go around 
a whole ship/' remarked Bill to me, having in mind the box- 
like coffer-dams that were used for the piers of the sea-going 
railroad. 

"'Why don't you ask him about it?" said I. 

''Why don't you?" he retorted. 

"Oh, I don't mind speaking to him." But all the same 
I hesitated. 

''You know," continued the stranger, "some of our sheet- 
piling was bought by the Cuban Government." 

"Excuse me, sir," I ventured, "did you have anything to 
do with the raising of the Maine? ^' 

The man looked surprised at the interruption, but his 
answer was cordial enough: "Why, bless you, boy, I was 
here from the very start, to represent the company that 
furnished the sheet-piling for the coffer-dam!" 

"But I thought a coffer-dam was a wooden thing, like a 
box without any top or bottom," broke in Bill. "That is 
what a man on the Key West Railroad said it was," 

"That is true enough, but a coffer-dam is a general name 
for any kind of a wall used to dam off the water from what is 
normally submerged. In this case the dam went all the 
way around the ship. And it was no small job building that 
wall. Nothing Hke it was ever done before. You see, the 
Maine was so deep in the mud that we had to get down about 
fifty feet before we could uncover her completely. That 



Baring the Mystery of the ''Maine.'' 77 

meant enormous pressure on the coffer-dam, and it had to be 
made very strong, particularly as the bed of the harbor is 
nothing but deep clay/* 

"But why didn't they pass chains under the wreck and 
haul it up without building a coffer-dam?'" asked Bill, calling 
to mind the vessel that had been raised that way in New 
York Bay, during the summer. 

"That was suggested, but it was not carried out, for two 
very good reasons: If chains were passed under the hull — 
and that would have been an awful job in itself — it was 
feared that they would crush through the sides of the ship, 
weakened as it was by years of exposure under water. But 
the principal reason was that the Maine was going to be 
raised not only for the purpose of giving it an honorable 
burial, but also to settle, once for all, the mysterious cause of 
the catastrophe. You know, some people claimed that it 
was blown up by the spontaneous explosion of its own 
magazines, while others held that the disaster had been 
caused by a mine. In order to settle the matter, it was 
necessary to lay bare the whole wreck before disturbing it.'' 

"How big was the ship.^'' I queried. 

"Three hundred and twenty-four feet long, with a beam 
of fifty-seven feet; but we made our coffer-dam in the shape 
of an oval about four hundred feet long, and nearly two 
hundred and twenty feet wide; like this — '' and with his cane 
he scratched out a plan of the coffer-dam. (See Fig. 3.) 
"These circles are cylinders of sheet-piling.'' 

"But what do you mean by sheet-piling?" I interrupted. 



78 



Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 



''Why, don't you know? They are long sheets of steel 
about a foot wide, with hooked grooves along each edge, like 
this,'' showing us a watch-charm that was a miniature sec- 
tion of the type of steel pile put out by the company he 
represented. (See Fig. 4.) *' You see, when we drive these 
piles, the hooked edges of each pile interlock with the hooked 




FIG. 3. THE BIG OVAL COFFER-DAM MADE UP OF CYLINDERS WITH 
SMALL ARCS CLOSING THE JOINTS BETWEEN THEM. 

edges of the piles at each side of it. We set the piles out 
in big circles fifty feet in diameter/' The man pulled out 
of his pocket a picture showing a number of completed 
cylinders. 

''How in the world did you get such perfect cylinders, 
Perkins?" exclaimed the man's friend. 

"Why, we used a templet, or skeleton frame-work. 



Baring the Mystery of the ''Maine.'' 79 

First we drove a wooden pile for a center, and then floated 
a wooden, circular frame over it, pivoting it on this center." 

''What did you pack the joints with, between the piles, 
to keep out the water?'' Bill inquired. 

"We didn't pack them. You see, we filled the cylinders 
with clay sucked up from the bed of the harbor by a suction 
dredge, and the weight of the clay made the cylinders swell 
out, drawing the joints tight. Then there was another thing 
that helped: No sooner was the piling down than barnacles 
and other marine growths got busy and incrusted the piles so 



FIG. 4. TOP VIEW OF A SHEET-PILE SHOWING BY DOTTED LINES HOW IT 
INTERLOCKS WITH PILES AT EACH SIDE. 

thickly that no water could get in. Besides, the clay filling 
itself was an excellent seal. Between the cylinders we placed 
these arcs (see Fig. 5), and filled them up with clay. 

"After the wall had been built all the way around the 
wreck and the cylinders had all been filled with clay, we 
started to pump out the cofFer-dam. But our troubles were 
not over yet. We soon had to stop pumping because it was 
found that the tremendous pressure of the mud and water 
outside was forcing the cyhnders inward. You see, there 
was nothing but clay to drive them into, and there was 
nothing but clay to fill them with. It would have been 
much better to have used stone for the fillings but stone 



8o 



Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 






could not be found readily, near by. We found it necessary 
at length to dump some broken rock inside, aginst the walls 
of the cofFf-dam; then, later, when the Maine had been 
uncovered, we ran braces across from one side to the other." 
''What did the wreck look Hke.^'' I asked eagerly. 
''The wreck? Oh, it was a horrible sight! The worst 
conglomeration of tangled and twisted steel I ever saw. 
You know a commission examined it, and they found a plate 

that was bent in such a way 
as to show without a shadow 
of a doubt that there had 
been an explosion of a mine 
against the outside of the 
ship. That plate came from 
under one of the magazines 
which must have been set 
ofF by the concussion, or 

_j|j. . even by the flame from the 

explosion of that mine. 
From the way the plate 
was stretched they knew that a peculiarly slow explosive 
must have been used, which puzzled them until they learned 
of a powder that the natives used to manufacture. Experi- 
ments with this powder proved it to have just the qualities 
that would account for the condition of the plate. The 
after-part of the ship was in a pretty good state of 
preservation, but everything was covered with thick, black 
mud, and what wasn't buried in mud was thickly incrusted 




FIG. 5. THE ARC CONSTRUCTION 
BETWEEN THE CYLINDERS. 




THE AFTER DECK OF THE "MAINE." 




AFTER PORTION OF THE " MAINE " FLOATED OUT OF THE COFFER-DAM AND 
READY TO BE BURIED AT SEA WITH HONORS. 



Baring the Mystery of the '^ Maine.'' 8i 

with barnacles and oyster shells. They had to cut up the 
wreckage with the oxy-acetylene torch; but I suppose you 
don't know what that is." 

"Indeed we do!'* I assured him. "We saw one at work 
this summer. It's a flame of oxygen and acetylene that is 
so hot that it cuts right through iron." 

"Then I suppose you know that that intensely hot flame, 
although it cuts iron, does not readily cut through wood?" 

"Doesn't it? Why, how is that?" 

"It seems the torch is not quite hot enough to melt the 
iron, but it raises it to a white heat. Then a fine stream of 
pure oxygen is played on the metal, and it burns instead of 
melting. You know rust is oxidized iron, and the torch will 
not burn through rusty metal very well, because the coat of 
rust has already consumed all the oxygen it can take up. 
The rust had to be scraped away before the torch could be 
used, and yet that jet of flame that would only char wood, 
would cut through armored steel eight inches thick without 
any trouble, only we had to be careful to run the cut so that 
the slag from the burning steel would flow out. 

"Well, they cleaned up most of the wreckage, and fastened 
chains to the larger pieces so that they could be hauled out 
after the water was let back into the coff'er-dam again. 
Then they cleaned up the after-end of the ship, cut it loose 
from the wreckage, and closed up the end with a bulkhead. 
The men had to be very careful when working in that black 
mud, because a slight cut or a scratch on the barnacles 
meant blood-poisoning, sure. It is a wonder that no one 



82 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

was seriously hurt. About the queerest experience was one 
that I had myself. I was crawling into the hold of the 
vessel one night, when my back came in contact with the 
bare wires of an electric motor that was running at one end 
of the wreck. The heavy current contracted my muscles 
so that I couldn't move. And there I was held in the dark, 
yelling for help. I thought they would never hear me. 
It seemed hours before any one came to my rescue, but I 
suppose it was only about ten or fifteen minutes. Anyway, 
I wasn't seriously hurt.'* 

*'Did they work there at night .f^" I asked. 

"Oh, yes, part of the time. We had electric light from 
Havana. When the after-part of the vessel had been pre- 
pared for floating, it was feared that the suction of the mud 
would hold it down, so holes were drilled through the bottom 
of the hull so that water could be forced through to wash 
away the mud from the bottom. But this proved unneces- 
sary. The braces that were run from the coflFer-dam to the 
ship to keep the coflFer-dam from caving in, were slanted 
upward slightly, and before we knew it, they were actually 
pushing the ship up out of the mud. When water was let 
into the cofFer-dam the vessel, or rather piece of a vessel, 
floated nicely. Of course the holes in the bottom were plugged 
up, but they were used afterward to help sink the ship at sea. 

'*To let the ship out of the coff'er-dam we had to remove 
two of the cylinders. Then we reahzed what the barnacles 
had done to the piling. We had to batter the piles with a 
steam-hammer before they would budge. 



Baring the Mystery of the '' Maine ^ 83 

"I need not tell you about how the Maine was buried at 
sea with honors. You must have read about that. But a 
rather interesting job was done after the Maine was buried. 
At the time of the explosion, the top of one of the turrets 
was blown so far that it lay outside of the cofFer-dam, and it 
was found to lie just above the depth to which the harbor was 
to be cleared. It was a pretty heavy piece to raise, so what 
did they do but bury it. A trench was dredged around it, 
undermining it as much as possible, so that it must have 
looked like an enormous submarine mushroom. Then a 
charge of dynamite was exploded on the head of that mush- 
room, and drove it down to the prescribed depth. 

*^Good gracious! look at the time,'' he said suddenly, 
looking at his watch. '^I wouldn't mind talking all day, 
but I have lots to attend to before taking the night train for 
Santiago.'* 



CHAPTER IX. 
MINING WITH HOT WATER. 

*' Another adventure! I never heard the beat!*' ex- 
claimed Uncle Ed. We were in New Orleans, at Hotel 
Imperial, and had just finished telling him of our experiences 
at Crooked Island. *^That accounts for the telegram I 
received.'^ 

"A telegram?'^ I cried, apprehensively. 

*'I suppose you wrote home about your adventure, Jim.'' 

*^Yes, I wrote mother a letter from Nassau." 

"Well, here is the answer, then," he said drawing a 
telegram out of his pocket. It read: "Send Jim home; 
he has too many adventures." 

My heart sank. "Can't you persuade them to let me stay 
a little longer?" I asked. 

"Fm astonished," teased Uncle Ed, "to hear you pleading 
to stay away from your home." 

"Oh, you know what I mean," I repHed testily. "I'll be 
glad enough to get back home when the time comes, but I 
hate to miss anything good, and I suspect you have some- 
thing in view or you would never have asked us to meet you 
in New Orleans, when we were nearer New York, where we 
started from." 

84 



Mining with Hot Water. 85 

''You are a regular Sherlock Holmes," laughed Uncle Ed. 
"As a matter of fact, I was planning a bit of sight-seeing on 
my own hook, and had been anticipating the pleasure of 
taking you both with me; but I must say it looks as though 
you would have to trot right home, young man, and that will 
leave me only Bill for a companion/' 

"No, thanks," my chum spoke up, "I don't care to stay. 
Jim stuck by me when I broke my leg, and I'm going to stick 
by him now. If he has to go home, why, I go, too." 

"Now, what do you think of that," wailed Uncle Ed, 
"and I had planned six weeks of good times! I shall cer- 
tainly have to make a strong appeal to your parents, Jim, or 
my vacation will be spoiled. Let me see, the first thing to 
do is to wire your mother that you are here, safe and sound, 
under my personal care, and no more liable to sudden harm 
or injury than you would be in your own little village. Then 
I'll write a long letter, and we shall see what comes of it." 

I don't know what Uncle Ed said, but he wrote and 
rewrote that letter, until it was past supper time before he 
was satisfied with it. 

"It's a pretty strong appeal," he said, "if I do say it my- 
self. I promised to be your daddy, guardian, chaperon, 
nurse and private detective all in one, if they will only let 
you stay with me a few weeks. You'll have to do your part 
to keep out of all danger." 

We both gave him a solemn promise to be good, and then 
came the tedious wait for the verdict from home. The 
suspense was awful. It took three days for that letter to 



86 Picky Shovel and Pluck. 

go from New Orleans to New York. Uncle Ed had insisted 
upon having an answer by telegraph, and we literally 
haunted the telegraph office on the third day. 

Of course you all know what was the answer, because 
you can see that this story is not half ended, but we 
had no such clue. When the permit finally arrived we 
shouted for joy, but Uncle Ed said: ^^I'm almost sorry that 
they are going to let you stay. IVe taken an awful re- 
sponsibility upon my hands. '^ 

It wasn't until after the telegram arrived, that Uncle Ed 
told us of his plans. '^ First of all I want to visit a curious 
sulphur mine, over near the Texas border of this state; then 
I must return and study the methods that are being used for 
fighting floods along the Mississippi. That is my chief 
mission here. You know, I've been detailed by the govern- 
ment to make the investigation. After that, I want to go 
up to Keokuk and see the dam that is being built across the 
Mississippi. Finally, on our way back to New York, we 
might take in the steel works at Chicago, or Gary, or Pitts- 
burgh, whichever is most convenient. How is that for a 
program?" 

''Great," we both cried. 

''Very well, let us set out for the sulphur mine to-morrow. 
It is one of the queerest mines in the world." 

"I thought sulphur was only to be found round about 
volcanoes," remarked Bill. "But there can't be any vol- 
canoes in a flat country like Louisiana." 

"No, there are no volcanoes there, nor any mountains, but 



Mining with Hot Water. 87 

there is plenty of sulphur buried under about four hundred 
feet of clay and quicksand. How it came there no one 
knows. Some people imagine that ages ago an enormous 
geyser deposited the sulphur in its crater. The sulphur 
was found many years ago when they were boring for oil. 
Then the problem arose how were they to get at the sulphur. 
Your experiences last summer will tell you that it is no simple 
matter to sink a shaft even a hundred feet through quick- 
sand, but here was four hundred feet to go through. They 
did actually try to sink a shaft with a special shield, and then 
had to give it up after going down to a considerable depth. 
Just then, along came a man with a scheme for getting at 
that mineral without using any mining methods that had 
ever been employed before. Everybody thought he was 
crazy, but he went right ahead, and his scheme proved a 
perfect success. As long as he couldn't get down to the 
sulphur he declared he would make the sulphur come up 
to him. So he drilled a hole down through the clay and 
quicksand and far into the sulphur deposit, then he pumped 
into the hole water heated to 335 degrees Fahrenheit." 

^' Water!" ejaculated Bill, ''as hot as that.^ You mean 
steam, don't you?" 

"Now look here Bill," protested Uncle Ed, "are you 
trying to trip me up? I said water, and I mean water, 
heated to 335 degrees Fahrenheit." 

" But how can you get it as hot as that without turning it 
into steam." 

"Don't you know, Bill, that the boihng point of water 



88 Picky Shovel and Pluck. 

depends upon the pressure it is under? Why, in a partial 
vacuum you can boil water with the heat of your hand. 
If you want to heat water above the ordinary boiUng point 
without turning it into steam, all you need to do is to keep 
it under pressure. Surely Professor Clark taught you that 
at the academy." 

Bill looked rather crestfallen; but Uncle Ed only laughed. 
*' Never mind! It is easy enough to forget things, I know, 
and I would much rather you asked questions than get 
wrong ideas.'' 

''What did the water do?'* I asked, ''Dissolve the 
sulphur?'' 

"No; water and sulphur won't mix, but the heat of the 
water melted the sulphur and then he pumped up the liquid 
mineral through another pipe inside his hot water pipe. I 
saw that man several days ago and he told me all about 
those experiences, and how happy he was when the first 
stream of molten sulphur began to pour out of the pump. 
In fifteen minutes it filled the forty barrels they had ready 
for it, and then they had to throw up an embankment and 
line it with boards to receive the surplus. Then, when night 
fell, and the pump was stopped and the stuff cleared away 
and piled up to make ready for the next day's supply, this 
triumphant engineer climbed on top of the warm heap and 
sat there after the men had all gone away. Alone, under 
the stars, he remained for a long time, exulting over his 
wonderful success. The next morning the mail-boy who 
drove into the station said, 'Well, you all pumped sulphur^ 




GENERAL VIEW OF THE SULPHUR MINES. 




MASSES OF SULPHUR WAITING FOR SHIPMENT. 




Pi 

o 



w 

H 

s 

o 

H 

O 
g 
H 



W 
H 

b 
O 

o 



Mining with Hot Water. 89 

sure, but nobody believed you would, except the old car- 
penter, and they say as how he's half crazy/" 

'*But," protested Bill, "I can't quite understand about 
that hot water. Why doesn't it turn into steam as soon as 
they let it out of the boiler into the well?" 

*' Because they keep up the same pressure in the well," 

**Then why doesn't the water shoot out through the pipe 
that they pump the sulphur through?" 

*'The outlet for the steam is higher than the inlet for the 
sulphur. The water shoots upward and melts out a little 
chamber in the mass of sulphur, but the molten sulphur, 
being heavier than water, sinks to the bottom of the chamber. 
The intake pipe reaches down far enough to be always 
submerged in the sulphur." 

** But, then, if there is such a pressure on the water, why 
isn't there enough to force up the sulphur without pumping 
it up?" 

"Now you are talking like an engineer," said Uncle Ed, 
delighted. "The sulphur is too heavy in its natural state 
to be forced up in that way, and yet they soon found that 
pumping would not do because they couldn't get a pump 
that would stand the corrosive effect of hot sulphur, so 
they used the very scheme you suggested, except that they 
diluted the molten sulphur with compressed air. That 
meant a triple pipe in the well, the outside one for the hot 
water, the next one inside for the diluted sulphur, and the 
innermost one for the air supply. The air bubbhng up 
through the liquid makes it light and frothy, so that it 



90 Picky Shovel and Pluck. 

weighs only half as much as the clear sulphur and is easily 
carried to the surface without any suction pumping, by the 
pressure of the water.'^ 

The next day we visited that curious mine. Of course we 
couldn't see what was going on below, but it was interesting 
to watch the stream of bright yellow fluid pouring out of 
the pipes and filling the huge cooHng vats. All about were 
the towers for sinking the wells. 

*^I wish we could go down into the mine and see just what 
is going on there. It seems as though there must be some 
way of sinking a shaft to it.'* 

"If it had to be done,'' replied Uncle Ed, "it could be 
done. But what would be the use?" 

"How could it be done?" 

For answer Uncle Ed told us about some peculiar mining 
operations that had been carried out in Holland. "You 
know that most of that country lies actually below the sea 
level. Some excellent coal deposits were found there, but 
they were far underground and covered with such a deep 
layer of quicksand that there was no chance of sinking 
a shaft down to the coal by the ordinary caisson method. 
What do you suppose they did? There's a problem for 
you to solve. Bill." 

"But did they actually build a shaft down to the coal or 
did they use some trick like this of getting the coal up to 
them without going down to it?" 

"You would hardly expect them to pump a liquid down 
there hot enough to melt coal?" 



Mining with Hot Water. 91 

"Might they not set the coal on fire and use the gas?" 

"'By George! that's not a bad idea, but it's old; it was 
proposed by an eminent British scientist. He figured that it 
would be cheaper to burn and bake the coal in the mine, use 
the gases to run gas engines, let them in turn run dynamos to 
convert the energy into electricity, and then transmit 
electric power all over the country. But that isn't what the 
Dutchmen did. Have you given it up yet? Well, now, 
think a minute. The reason quicksand is so hard to manage 
is because it is liquid; but suppose we should solidify the 
quicksand?'' 

"How?'' 

"How is water solidified?" 

"Do you mean by freezing it?" 

"Why, certainly. Why not freeze the quicksand? Eh, 
see the idea ? They simply sank tubes into the quicksand and 
pumped a freezing mixture through them as they do in 
making artificial ice, and then it was easy enough to hack 
a shaft through the soHdified sand and line it with concrete 
to keep the water out after the ice thawed. " 



CHAPTER X. 
KEEPING THE MISSISSIPPI IN CHECK. 

I NEVER knew, until Uncle Ed told us about it, that the 
Mississippi floods present a serious engineering problem. 
Of course, I knew that they had to build levees along the 
banks of the river to keep it to its course, when it was 
swollen by floods, and that sometimes it burst through the 
levees or flowed over the top of them, and caused havoc in 
the surrounding country. But I supposed that was due to 
carelessness in building, or too much economizing, and that 
to keep the Mississippi in bounds, it was merely necessary to 
build the levees higher and wider. 

When I expressed some such sentiment to Uncle Ed, he 
replied, "Ah, my boy, you have no idea how vast a river 
system this is. Why, it is the longest in the world.'' 

*'But I thought the Nile was longer?'' interrupted Bill. 

"Yes, longer than the Mississippi River alone. But that's 
because geographers have given the name, Mississippi, to 
the shorter branch, while calling the longer and main branch, 
the Missouri. It is 4,200 miles from the source of the 
Missouri to its real mouth in the gulf, or 530 miles longer than 
the Nile. Why, fully two-fifths of the United States drains 
into the Missouri-Mississippi river system. It reminds me 
of a big, playful giant that upsets our plans by a knock of 

92 



Keeping the Mississippi in Check. 93 

the elbow or a stub of the toe. It is always playing practical 
jokes on us. We build our towns along its edge, expecting 
to ply our trade on its waters. The first thing we know the 
wicked old river is tearing down our levees and making us 
fight for dear life to keep the town from being overwhelmed; 
then, the next thing we know, the mischievous river has 
suddenly changed its course and left that town stranded 
several miles inland. That's what happened to Vicksburg, 
Miss. It used to be on the river. Now it is five miles 
inland on Centennial Lake. The old river loves to mix up 
our maps and make geography to suit itself. The town of 
Delta used to be above Vicksburg, now it is three miles 
below it.'' 

"You don't mean it was carried down by a flood.'"' gasped 
Bill 

"Well, hardly. I mean the river has shifted its course, so 
that now it runs by Vicksburg before it reaches Delta. You 
know the river is all twists and turns, and it is constantly 
breaking through from one curve into another. This some- 
times reverses the flow through the channel for a mile or two. 
In some places you need not be at all surprised to find the 
river, which has been running east past your door, now 
running west." 

"I don't quite understand," I said. 

"Well, there is one place near Greenville, Tenn., where you 
can actually sail forty miles upstream by drifting down 
stream and hauling your boat or canoe across three narrow 
tongues of land. Here is a rough map of the spot," and 



94 



Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 



Uncle Ed drew a diagram like Fig. 6. *'You put your 
canoe in the river at Greenville and let it drift downstream 
for about ten miles. Then you climb out and carry the boat 
across a narrow neck of land and launch it in the river at a 
point which you will find is several miles above Greenville. 
Again you drift with the current until you are close to 
Greenville, when a short portage carries you over to another 
big bend in the river, and after sailing down this a ways you 
come to a third portage that leads you across a narrow 




^^7'eenviiie 



FIG. 6. TRAVELING UP THE MISSISSIPPI BY DRIFTING DOWN STREAM. 

isthmus to a point forty miles upstream from where you 
started. You can readily see that if the river broke across 
the first two narrow necks of land, it would cut out two 
big curves, and run down in what was before an upstream 
direction." 

*'I don't see," put in Bill, *^why they don't straighten 
the whole channel. It would save lots of time to navigation." 



Keeping the Mississippi in Check. 



95 




O 
H 

H 

!z; 
w 



iz; 
w 
w 
n 

w 
> 

K 
en 

o 

Q 

O 
m 
Q 

<; 



^ :: 

O en 

Ph en 

W ^ 



O 
W 

O 






96 Picky Shovel and Pluck. 

**Yes/' I added, "and the levees would not have to be so 
long if they ran straight, and it would be easier to keep them 
in shape." 

"And yet, answered Uncle Ed, "when the Mississippi 
does try to straighten its channel, we do our best to prevent 
it.'* He pulled a map out of his pocket and turned to a 
section of the Mississippi at the boundary of Kentucky and 
Tennessee. It showed how the river took a big sweep 
around a tongue of land. Uncle Ed pointed to a dotted line 
marked "1902'' to show the shore line at that date. 

"You see how the water has been cutting into that penin- 
sula. Now it is less than a mile across at one place, and it is 
almost certain that if nothing were done to prevent it, that 
neck would be cut through at the next high water and the 
course of the river would be shortened and straightened. 
But some thing is being done. Uncle Sam is putting in 
half a million dollars worth of work at that one spot to keep 
the Mississippi to its crooked course.'* 

"But why?" we chorused. 

"There's your chance to do some guessing," teased 
Uncle Ed. 

"Oh, I know," said Bill, "it would leave the town of New 
Madrid stranded far inland." 

"Yes," admitted Uncle Ed, "that's one reason, but it 
wouldn't matter if there were no town there. The work 
would have to be done just the same." 

"I have it," I cried, as a brilliant idea struck me; 
"it would change the state boundaries. It would cut 




GRADING A BANK WITH A HYDRAULIC JET. 



, i:^ \ v;j,^;-^^4s^par;^ 




GROUND SILLS TO PREVENT EROSION IN TIME OF FLOOD. 



Keeping the Mississippi in Check, 97 

off a big slice of Kentucky and Tennessee and give it 
to Missouri." 

''That's another good reason, but by no means the main 
one." 

We thought hard for some time, but finally had to give 
it up. 

''There is a difference in level of six feet between the river 
at one side of that isthmus and the other," explained Uncle 
Ed. "If the Mississippi should cut across the barrier, there, 
it would sweep through in such a torrent that the bank and 
levee on the opposite side might not be able to restrain it, 
and it would make a serious break that would flood the 
country all around. You see, the difficulty with the Missis- 
sippi is, that its banks are nothing but sand carried down by 
its own waters. The river has built its own banks and it 
feels that it may tear them down and rebuild them at will. 
You know it carries down an enormous amount of sand, 
particularly the Missouri branch. At times you can get 
nearly a tumblerful of clear sand out of every pail of Missouri 
River water. Why, the Missouri carries down every year, 
nearly twice as much sediment as all the rock and earth that 
will have been excavated from the Panama Canal when it is 
finished. Careful testshave shown that it brings down a 
carload of sand every second. In other words, if the sedi- 
ment were carried by rail it would take a train running con- 
tinuously day and night, all the year round at the rate of 
seventeen miles per hour to deliver the sand in the same 
volume as it is delivered by the Missouri River. That 



98 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

furnishes the Mississippi River with plenty of material for 
its geographical whims and experiments. Wherever the 
current slackens, the sediment is deposited, building a sand 
bar, and where the current is swift and particularly where 
the river shoots around a bend it eats into the confining 
banks and carries off the sand, only to deposit it elsewhere. 
What we are trying to do is to protect those banks that are 
exposed to severe attacks; we don't care how winding the 
river is so long as we can keep it to a fixed course. We dare 
not straighten the course or the river would get beyond 
control/' 

We had a chance before long to see just how they keep the 
soft sand banks from caving, when attacked by the current. 
Barges loaded with willow saplings were towed to the spot 
that was to be protected. Then scores of negroes were set 
to work weaving an enormous mat out of the saplings. The 
mat would float on the water as it was woven and then they 
would keep adding to it until it was fully a thousand feet 
long, by say 250 feet wide. After it was completed they 
dumped rock on it to weight it down. In some places the 
banks were armored with stone paving and even with con- 
crete. To cut the banks down to a gentle slope before laying 
the paving they used powerful streams of water. It was 
astonishing to see how easily the hydraulic jets ate into the 
earth. 

One of the things that struck me as very odd was that the 
levees were not built on the banks of the Mississippi, but any- 
where from half a mile to a mile back. 



Keeping the Mississippi in Check. 99 

^^Why, my dear boy," exclaimed Uncle Ed, "you have no 
idea what an enormous amount of water comes down this 
river when it is in flood. We have to let it spread, some.'^ 

"I don't see," said Bill, "why they can't have reservoirs 
here and there, along the river to store the water until the 
flood is passed and then let it out again." 

"Good idea! But there are two objections. First, the 
size of the river, and then, again, the sand it carries. If 
you ran the river at full flood into a reservoir as big as the 
whole state of New Jersey, it would fill up at the rate of a 
foot every ten hours. In a few days even so big a reservoir 
as that would overflow its banks. Every time it was used, 
sand would be deposited out of the quiet water, because 
there would be no violent motion of the water to keep the 
sand ia suspension. You know how it is when you put more 
sugar in your iced tea than it will dissolve. If you stir the 
tea the sugar will float, but as the tea quiets down, the sugar 
settles to the bottom of the glass. So with nothing to stir 
the water in the reservoir, there is nothing to keep the sedi- 
ment from settling to the bottom. We would have to 
dredge the reservoir after every flood to keep it from filling 
with sand. Altogether the levee system seems best, pro- 
vided the levees are built high enough and strong enough. 
By having them far apart, we provide a flowing reservoir 
along the entire length of the Mississippi, for they let the 
river spread well beyond its normal width and depth, while 
the current keeps the sand from settling and filling the 
reservoir/^ 



100 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

*^ Couldn't the floods be stopped before they started? 
Professor Clark, at boarding school, had a couple of models 
of a hillside, to show that the reason we have floods is because 
our forests are all cut down. One model was covered with 
moss and the other with dirt and pebbles. Then he had a 
shower-bath arrangement over them, and he'd let the water 
rain down on them, and .'' 

*'Yes,'' interrupted Uncle Ed, "and the water would pour 
in a torrent down the bare model, but would soak into the 
moss and ooze out of it slowly. I know the experiment. 
But if he had kept up the shower until the moss was thor- 
oughly saturated, you would have seen torrents pouring 
down the moss as well. Of course, the dried leaves that 
collect in the forest make a reservoir that retains rainwater, 
but there is a limit to the amount it will hold and, in a rainy 
spell such as will cause a flood, the water may be seen 
pouring freely out of the forests." 

''But they do check it some,'' I insisted. 

"Oh, yes, they help. But somebody has figured how 
much of a forest we would need to have reduced the 
floods of last year by only 500,000 second-feet, and 
he ." 

"What do you mean by second-feet?" interrupted Bill. 

"Why, cubic feet per second. On the average, the 
Mississippi River discharges about 610,000 cubic feet of 
water per second, at the mouth of the Red River, but last 
year, during the flood, the discharge was 2,300,000 cubic 
feet per second. A cubic foot of water would fill about two 




HAULING A SNAG OUT OF THE MISSISSIPPI AND CUTTING IT INTO 
CONVENIENT LENGTHS TO HANDLE. 




WEAVING A MAT TO PROTECT A CAVING BANK, 




SINKING AN ENORMOUS WILLOW MAT. 



Keeping the Mississippi in Check. loi 

good-sized pails, which means that every second over five 
milHon pails of water flow past the mouth of the Red River. 

"Now, this man I was telling you about," continued Uncle 
Ed, "was figuring how much of a forest would be needed to 
reduce the discharge by about a miUion pails per second. 
That would still leave a good-sized flood of four million 
second-pails. And he found he would have to turn into a 
forest a territory equal to one-sixth of the whole United 
States, and then it would take a hundred years for the forest 
to grow and shed enough leaves to retain that much moisture. 

"I guess forests won't help us much, then,*' I remarked. 

"Not much," declared Uncle Ed. "Many suggestions 
have been off'ered, but, after all, the levees seem to furnish 
the most practical solution of the problem. Of course, the 
better the levee system above here, the more perfectly will 
the waters be confined and the more water will come down 
past New Orleans." 

"Couldn't they tap off some of the water before it got 
here?" Bill inquired. 

"That's another suggestion," said Uncle Ed. "But the 
same trouble arises. The Mississippi is a river of sand 
flowing through a land of sand. Give it a chance and it 
might scour out a new main channel, shutting off* the present 
channel with a deposit of sand and cutting off" New Orleans 
completely. When the river is high, we let some of it flow 
down the Atchafalaya River, but 'ground-sills' or belts of 
willow mattresses, weighted with rock, have been laid 
across the bottom of the Atchafalaya to keep the bed from 



102 Pick, Shovel a7td Pluck. 

being scoured too deeply. You see we dare not give the 
river any liberty. It is almost too big for us to manage, and 
if we do not keep a tight rein upon it, it will take the bit in 
its teeth and get beyond control." 



CHAPTER XL 
BUILDING A QUAY WITH A DIVING BELL. 

One day before we left New Orleans, we were sauntering 
along the river front, when we were astonished to see on a 
barge the name of the foundation company in whose caisson 
we had had our first experience under pneumatic pressure. 

'' Bill '' ; I exclaimed, "' Look ! Isn't that the company that 
Mr. Squires worked for?'' 

"You're right, Jim. I wonder what in the world they are 
doing down here. They can't be building foundations for a 
skyscraper in this place." 

"Well, hardly; but what would they be doing out in the 
water, anyway." 

We walked along the levee to get a nearer view of the 
barge. 

"Say, Jim," exclaimed Bill, "there are two barges with a 
big float or something between them." 

"Yes, and I beheve the barges are put there to guide 
the float and keep it from toppHng over. That's why they 
have those big wooden trusses on the barges." 

Just then there was a hiss of escaping air. "It's a cais- 
son," we both shouted. 

Sure enough, there was an air-lock sticking out of the top 
of the caisson, and presently a man began to climb out of it, 

103 



104 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

Immediately our curiosity was aroused. What could they 
be going to do out there in the mud. 

"Probably it is some sort of a pier/' I suggested. 

"Maybe; but what gets me/' declared Bill, "is why they 
should use a caisson. Uncle Ed told me that you could go 
down through sand and clay for a thousand feet without 
striking rock anywhere in this vicinity.'' 

Then another thing caught our attention. On the side 
of the big float there was some sort of a chain conveyor. 
Two chains ran over a pair of sprocket wheels and 
disappeared in the water. Fingers projected from each 
chain. Some big planks were floating in the water, 
and men' were pushing these planks up against the chains 
one at a time, while a couple of men were turning the 
sprocket-wheel shaft, and as a pair of fingers caught a 
plank, it would be carried down into the water. That 
aroused further speculation, but we could not arrive at 
any adequate explanation of the curious incidents we had 
witnessed. 

While we were considering ways and means of satisfying 
our curiosity, the man who had come out of the air-lock 
entered a boat and was rowed to shore. 

"Here's our chance, Bill," I cried. "We'll attack him 
with a rapid-fire of questions." 

We waited with batteries masked until he stepped ashore, 
and then Bill, who was always the leader when it came to a 
matter of questions, opened fire. 

"Say, mister, it looks like a very interesting job you are 




THE CAISSON SUPPORTED BETWEEN TWO BARGES. 




INSIDE THE CAISSON, SHOWING THE TROLLEY CONVEYOR. 



Building a Quay with a Diving Bell. 105 

doing over there. Jim and I have been trying to make out 
just what it is." 

"'Good land!'" was his reply. ''I thought everyone in this 
town knew we were building a quay." 

"'We are strangers here, you know," explained Bill. "We 
have figured that it must be a quay or a dock or some- 
thing, but we couldn't make out why you are using a caisson. 
That is a caisson out there between the barges, isn't it?" 

"Yes," answered the man, "and its afloat. That's the 
reason we have the barges at each side, so as to keep it from 
upsetting." 

"But aren't you going to sink it?" 

*'0h, no. We are using it as a sort of diving bell. You 
see our quay is to be built on piles driven into the river- 
bottom. The piles have already been driven fifteen feet 
below water level." 

"How do you drive piles below water level?" interrupted 
Bill. 

"We use a pile-driver down to the water line, and then we 
put a follower (a short piece of a pile) on it and drive it down 
to the required depth. The piles have all been driven and 
now we are capping them and laying a grillage (flooring) of 
planks on them. When that is done we are going to build a 
concrete wall on the grillage, high enough to come well above 
the water at flood level. You see we have to use air pressure 
to get down to the top of the piles. So we are using this big 
caisson as a sort of a diving bell." 

"Say, couldn't we go into the caisson?" pleaded Bill. 



io6 Picky Shovel and Pluck. 

Just as I had anticipated, we met with a flat refusal. 

"'But," I protested, ^'we are not the novices you take us 
to be. We have been in lots of caissons. In fact the first 
caisson we were ever in was one that your company was 
putting down for the foundation of a skyscraper in New 
York." 

"Is that so?" he inquired rather doubtfully. 

"Yes, Mr. Squires took us down." 

"What, Jim Squires?" 

"Yes, that's the man. He showed us all about caisson 
work." 

"So you know Jim Squires, do you? He's a fine fellow. 
We were classmates at college. My name is Donald Ken- 
nedy." 

We introduced ourselves and shook hands with him. 

"What foundation was Squires on," asked Mr. Kennedy. 

"I don't know as I can tell you the street number," I 
replied, but it was on Broadway, near Wall street. There 
was an accident down there. A bunch of oakum took fire, 
and one of the men, Danny Roach, probably you know him, 
saved our lives by emptying a bucket of sand on the fire." 

"Is that so!" exclaimed Mr. Kennedy again. "And you 
were there in the caisson when it happened?" 

"Yes," and I gave him a glowing account of what hap- 
pened. Then Bill told him of some of our other adventures 
under pneumatic pressure, which interested him greatly. 

Finally he declared that he must hurry ofF on an errand 
downtown, but if we would return in the afternoon he would 



Building a Quay with a Diving Bell. 107 

be only too glad to show us what there was to see in his float- 
ing caisson. 

A few hours later we were ferried across to the barges. 
The caisson was an enormous box measuring thirty by fifty 
feet, the fifty-foot length being necessary to cover the great 
width of the quay. At each corner and at the middle of the 
longer sides were big tanks filled with water. 

''We use that for ballast/' Mr. Kennedy explained. 
''You know, of course, how a caisson is built with a deck 
across it, so as to form a chamber below in which the men 
can work. Water is kept out of that chamber by pumping 
air into it, but that makes^^the caisson so Hght and buoyant 
that we have to pump water into these tanks above the^deck 
so as to weight it down. Of course, some of the weight of 
the caisson is supported by the barges. But most of it rests 
on the cushion of air trapped in the working chamber, and we 
have to keep a close watch on the pressure of that air cushion, 
for if it should drop, the caisson would sink correspondingly, 
bringing the deck down upon the heads of the workmen. 
On the other hand, if there should be any material leakage of 
water ballast, the caisson would float higher and the water 
would follow it up and come up over the tops of the piles. 
You see, in one case the ceiling would fall down upon them, 
and in the other the floor of water would rise and swamp 
them.'* 

"But having the water ballast so high,'' remarked Bill, 
" makes the caisson a top-heavy proposition. I should think 
it would turn turtle," 



io8 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

''It certainly would, as quick as a wink, if it were not for 
the barges at each side, and that, too, is why we put the 
ballast in separate tanks. You can readily see that if we 
flooded the whole top of the caisson the least tilt would set 
up a wave that would sweep across the caisson and upset it." 

''But why couldn't you put the weight lower down, say 
around the working chamber?" 

"We could, but that would make a much more bulky and 
expensive caisson. You see, this is a standard type of 
caisson, and therefore much simpler to build. You know 
all caissons are top-heavy, but they depend upon the dirt 
and sand to keep them upright. Here the barges serve that 
purpose just as well." 

"You haven't told us about the chain conveyor yet," 
remarked Bill. 

"Oh, that's a scheme for carrying lumber down to the 
men," answered Mr. Kennedy. You see our air-lock is not 
big enough to admit lumber in the length needed down 
there, so we carry the planks down under the edge of the 
caisson, and let them pop up inside." 

When Mr. Kennedy took us down into the caisson we 
found conditions there quite different from any other pneu- 
matic chamber we had ever been in. The pressure was less 
than ten pounds per square inch, and not at all disagreeable, 
but it was disturbing to realize that there was nothing but 
open water beneath us. Here we were in a pocket of air 
fifteen feet below water level, with wooden planking to keep 
the water from pouring in on us through the ceiling and side 



Building a Quay with a Diving Bell. 109 

walls, but only the invisible hand of pneumatic pressure to 
stay it from rushing in from below and overwhelming us. 
It gave us an uncanny feeling. What chance would there 
be for us if the water ballast should suddenly leak out? 
The black water beneath us would rise up over such poor 
footing as we had and leave us floundering about helplessly, 
or worse still, if the air pressure should give out we would be 
smashed between the deck and the piHng. It was ticklish 
work, too, climbing around on the slippery piles and timbers 
laid across them. 

But we did not let our minds dwell on such disagreeable 
possibilities. There was too much of interest in the work 
that the men were doing. The way in which the lumber was 
delivered to them struck us as very ingenious. Every once 
in a while a big stick that had been carried down by the 
conveyor chains under the cutting edge of the caisson, 
would bob up out of the water inside the working chamber. 
Along the deck overhead there was a pneumatic trolley 
system provided with a chain hoist. The lumber would be 
seized by this and hoisted up, and then it would be trans- 
ported to the place where it was needed, while we scrambled 
to get out of the way of the swaying timber. It seemed 
very odd to see no excavating — nothing but carpenter work, 
sawing off piles, notching cap pieces, boring holes, etc. 

*^We are working on stretches of about thirty feet each,'* 
explained Mr. Kennedy, ^^and leaving a gap of a little less 
than thirty feet between each finished section. Afterwards 
we will go back and finish up the gaps. That will do away 



no Pick J Shovel and Pluck. 

with the delicate equilibrium between air and water ballast 
that we have to maintain now, because we can rest the 
caisson on the grillage of the finished sections at each side 
of the gap and weight it sufficiently to keep it down under all 
conditions. Then we can keep the pressure up as high as we 
please; for any excess of air will merely pour out under the 
edges of the caisson.'^ 

"But/' interposed Bill, *Sf the caisson rests on the grillage 
at each end, won't the piles in the gap be covered with 
water?" 

"Certainly, but only a foot or so and the men won't mind 
working in a little water/' 

"Well, they are welcome to the job," I declared. 



CHAPTER XII. 
SETTING THE RIVER TO WORK. 

Uncle Ed^s study of the levees along the Mississippi 
took much longer than he had anticipated, and by the 
time he had worked his way up the river as far as Keokuk, 
winter was beginning to give way to spring. 

Uncle Ed was well acquainted with the chief engineer 
of the work there, and sought him out at once. He proved 
to be a very jolly, big-hearted man. 

^^I am always interested in boys,'' he said to us. "In 
fact, Fm not sure but that I am still pretty much of a boy 
myself. You know, I was made an honorary member of 
the Boy Scout organization on the Illinois side of the river 
the other day." 

"You'll find these boys intensely interested in engineer- 
ing," put in Uncle Ed, with almost paternal pride. "They 
are going to college next year, and I expect them to prove 
a credit to the profession." 

"That's fine!" declared the chief engineer. "When I 
graduated from high school, I walked into the office of a 
bridge engineer, took off* my coat, hung it on a peg, and told 
him I was going to work there; I didn't care what he paid 
me. That was my start in engineering work. You are 
going to have a better start, and I shall expect you to 

HI 



112 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

perform work that will put this little job of mine all in the 
shade. I hope you intend to spend more than a day with 
us. I shall be mortally offended if you do not find more 
than a day's worth of interest here.'* 

"I am sure we could spend a month here with profit," 
replied Uncle Ed; ''but we are behind our schedule, and 
will have to hurry. However, if you treat us well, you may 
find us hanging around a whole week." 

"A week it shall be then," was the immediate response. 
''That will give you a chance to see not only how the work 
looks, but how it grows; and you must be my guests while 
you are here." 

Of course we were delighted to accept the hospitality of 
such a jolly host. After we had moved our things from the 
hotel to his abode, he called one of his assistant engineers, 
named Johnson, and put Bill and myself in his charge to 
give us a general survey of the work, while he himself took 
Uncle Ed in tow. Mr. Johnson took us across the river 
to the IlHnois side of the Mississippi, so that we could see 
how the dam was being constructed. 

"I should think," I remarked to our guide, "that the 
steamboat lines would object seriously to having this ob- 
struction built across the river." 

"Object? Why this is no obstruction. It is a help to 
navigation — a real blessing to the Mississippi boats." 

"Why, how is that? You'll have to have a lock to pass 
the boats from one level to the other, won't you?" 

"Yes, but heretofore they have had to go through a long 




HOW THE COFFER-DAMS WERE BUILT, ONE IN ADVANCE OF THE OTHER. 




A MOUNTAIN OF ICE THREATENED TO OVERWHELM THE COFFER-DAM. 




PROTECTING THE COFFER-DAM AGAINST FLOOD WITH ROCK AND SAND BAGS. 




THE FINAL STRUGGLE OF THE RIVER AS THE LAST GAP WAS BEING CLOSED. 



Setting the River to Work. 113 

canal, with three locks in it, to get by the rapids that extend 
for miles back of this point. When our work is done, a 
single lock will raise them to the lake above the dam, and 
then they can run full speed on up the river without any 
further interruption. And, by the way, that lock will be 
bigger than any you ever saw." 

''Oh, I guess not,'' said Bill, somewhat disdainfully; 
"we've just been down to see the Panama Canal." 

"Well, the locks down there are pretty large," admitted 
Mr. Johnson. "This lock is to be only six hundred feet 
long, but it will be just as wide as the Panama locks, and 
it will raise the boats forty feet, while the highest lift in 
any one lock in Panama is only thirty-two feet." 

As we were crossing the bridge to the IlHnois side, we 
had a chance to get a general idea of the whole work. On 
the Iowa side, a large part of the river had been inclosed by 
a coffer-dam, and here work was proceeding on the big 
power station that was going to extract over three hundred 
thousand horse-power from the Mississippi River. From 
the Illinois shore the great dam was creeping slowly across. 
Already it had stretched half-way over, and the coffer- 
dams in advance of the concrete work left a clear opening 
for the river only four hundred and fifty feet wide. But 
the river was flowing quite freely through the dam, for, as 
yet, it consisted of a series of arches, something like the 
bridges of the Key West Railroad, except that the legs or 
piers of the bridge were set much closer. 

"That's a funny way to build a dam," I remarked. 



114 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

"Oh, no, a wonderfully good way," was his response. 
*'This is one of the largest rivers in the world, you know, 
and one of the largest dams ever constructed. We have 
to move very cautiously. Why, if we should start to build 
a solid wall across, the old river would struggle more and 
more fiercely as it found that wall hemming it in, until it 
would become absolutely unmanageable. So we have 
humored it with the notion that it is merely a bridge we are 
building. All the time the water can flow freely through 
the arches, except where our coff'er-dams are built to keep 
the water out while the rock bed of the river is being exca- 
vated for the foundation, and the concrete of the arches is 
setting. After the 'bridge' has been completed all the way 
across, we shall begin to close in on the river by filling in 
between the arches. You know, between the piers we are 
going to build spillways to a height of thirty-two feet, 
leaving above each a gap that will be closed by a steel gate. 
But the spillways will not be built up to the full height at 
once. If we tried that, by the time we got half of them 
built, the water would be running through the other half 
so fast that work there would be very difficult. So, instead, 
the spillways will be built at first only five feet high. We'll 
take one span at a time, and wall it up on both the up- 
stream and down-stream side. Then the concrete will be 
cast in specially prepared forms. After all the spillways 
have been raised to the five-foot level, we shall go over the 
dam again, and raise it five feet more. In that way, we'll 
raise the spillway to its full height gradually. Then the 



Setting the River to Work. 115 

gates will be fitted into slots to control the water flowing 
over the spillways. An electrically operated derrick will 
travel along the top of the dam and raise the steel gates 
when the water is high." 

When we got over to the dam, we found that the top 
formed a broad viaduct about thirty feet wide, on which 
was a three-track railroad. To carry the concrete on to 
the front over the freshly built arches, there was an enormous 
crane, two hundred and forty feet long, that ran on rails 
twenty-five feet apart. The crane had a reach of one 
hundred and fifty feet beyond its base. With it the steel 
form was removed from the finished arches and carried 
forward to the head of the line, to furnish the molds in 
which the concrete was cast. We went out to the forward 
end of the crane and watched operations. 

^^This is going to be one tremendous big chunk of con- 
crete," declared Mr. Johnson. *^The dam with the abut- 
ments is pretty nearly a mile long, and it is all in one piece 
with the power-house and lock and a big dry-dock that we 
are building." 

''It's good it isn't steel," said Bill, "or you would have 
trouble with expansion in summer-time." 

"Why, concrete expands and contracts just about as 
much as steel does," answered Mr. Johnson. "We have to 
allow for expansion, because it gets very hot here in sum- 
mer and very cold in winter. If we had no expansion-joints, 
the dam would crack in places, water would get into the 
cracks and freeze, breaking off pieces, so that, before we 



ii6 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

knew it, the dam might crumble away. You will see in 
the middle of each arch a layer or single thickness of tar 
paper inserted to act as a cushion, while it lasts, and when 
it rots out, it will leave a narrow gap that will allow for 
expansion.'' 

"But what about the spillways.^" 

"The mass of concrete is so great, and it is such a poor 
conductor of heat, that there will be little change of tem- 
perature in the heart of the concrete, so the paper joints 
between the spillways and the piers will extend only the 
width of a single sheet of tar paper into the concrete. 

"There are many things," continued Mr. Johnson, "that 
we have yet to learn about concrete. We never can tell 
just how it is going to behave, so we are taking samples of 
the stuff that goes into each arch. Each sample is cast 
into thirty-three bricks that are labeled so that we can tell 
from what batch they came, and in which arch the batch 
was poured. These bricks are tested at the end of two 
days, seven days, two weeks, four weeks, three months, 
six months, one, two, three, four, and five years. If any 
one of them shows symptoms of trouble, we shall know 
where to look for the defective concrete, and remedy the 
fault. If they show no ailments in five years, the concrete 
need cause us no further worry." 

The new spans were being built on dry rock, inside of a 
large coflFer-dam. The cofFer-dam was built of big wooden 
cribs. Each crib was made up of timbers crisscrossed, like 
a log-house. Mr. Johnson explained that the cofFer-dam 




w 
w 

H 
H 

w 
w 






o 
w 
p< 
w 

o 

w 

w 

H 



w 
o 

w 

H 



o 
Pi 

U 
< 

o 

3 
o 
o 







a 
< 

a 

H 

O 

U 

H 

S 
U 

s 

H 



w 
z 

<; 

u 

o 
z 

J 
a 
> 

< 

H 

a 
as 



a 

H 

o 
z 



< 

Q 

Q 

a 




'we had to save that wall at all cost." — See page 122. 



Setting the River to Work. 117 

was built just like the dam itself, by sinking the cribs twelve 
feet apart. Of course the sinking was done by loading them 
with stone. Then, when all the cribs were in place, the 
spaces between were closed with timbers, and the whole 
cofFer-dam was sealed with a bank of clay. Then the water 
was pumped out and the bottom of the river was laid bare. 
While the piers were being constructed in one cofFer-dam, 
another cofFer-dam was being built in advance of the first, 
so that the limestone bed of the river could be excavated 
for the foundation of the dam. We stood on the outer- 
most end of the cofFer-dam and watched the water go 
swirling by. We realized then how hard it must be to posi- 
tion the cribs under such conditions, and understood why 
it was that expert French Canadian lumbermen had to be 
employed for the job. Up above us the river was bridged 
over with a thick field of ice, and, now and then, a piece 
would break ofF and shoot past us on the swift current. 

"The ice is about ready to go out,'' said Mr. Johnson, 
*'and then there will be some fun. We are all ready for it, 
though. We have armored the more exposed cribs with 
boiler-plate, so that, if the ice tears away the stone and 
clay banked up around them, it cannot cut through the 
timbers." 

"I hope we'll see it!" cried Bill. 

''Guess you will, unless there is another freeze to-night." 

When we returned to the Keokuk side of the river, Mr. 
Johnson showed us the foundations of the big power-house. 

*'The building is going to be a third of a mile long," he 



ti8 



Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 




meH-WATEK LCVtL 6N UP' 

iTREAM SIDE OFMWZJi- 

HOUSt -^ 



pmiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiififiin 
iiiiiisiiiiii 




^Average lbvbl of tail iv> 



FIG. 8. SECTIONAL VIEW OF THE TURBINE, SHOWING THE ELECTRIC 
GENERATOR ABOVE, WITH A MAN STANDING BESIDE IT. 



Setting the River to Work. 



119 




TAIL B^Y 
V— OUTSIDE LINE^ OF DRAFT W»t 5tHtATM-V 



informed us, "and the generator-room will be big enough 
to hold a hundred and thirty-five thousand people, or the 
whole population of the State of Wyoming." 

We walked through the concrete galleries that led to the 
turbine chambers. 
These were scroll- 
shaped, something 
like a snail shell, 
and Mr. Johnson 
explained how the 
water would rush 
down into the scroll 
chambers, strike the 
blades of the tur- 
bines, whirhng them 
around at high speed, 
and escape through 
the center of the 
turbine wheels to 
the tail-race. 

''More water will 
pour through the 
turbines of this one 
plant every hour 
than New York con- 
sumes in two days," 
said Mr. Johnson. 
" Fast to the turbine 




FIG. 9. SECTIONAL VIEW SHOWING THE SPIRAL 
COURSE OF THE WATER TO THE TURBINE. 



120 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

shafts will be the revolving fields of the -electric generators, 
and each generator will produce about ten thousand electrical 
horse-power. We are going to send the current as far as 
St. Louis, one hundred and forty-four miles away, to run 
the street-cars of that city. And furthermore, to give you 
an idea of how much this project will do for mankind, 
let me tell you that it will save eight million tons of coal 
every year.'* 

After we had made a hasty survey of the foundation 
work, we cHmbed to the top of the cofFer-dam, and got 
there just in time to see an enormous floe detach itself from 
the ice-field above and bear down upon us. 

^' There you are, boys," cried Mr. Johnson; *'now see 
what happens.'' 

'^ She's a whopper, isn't she!" I exclaimed. 

In another moment, it struck with a tremendous crunch- 
ing blow. But the coflPer-dam held firm, and the ice buckled, 
broke, and ground itself into thousands of pieces ranging 
all the way from the tiniest fragments to huge masses 
weighing tons. Under the irresistible pressure of its mo- 
mentum, the broken ice piled itself up into a wall that 
reached from the bottom of the river to as much as thirty 
feet above, and enormous slabs toppled over upon the 
cofFer-dam, burying it completely in many places. For a 
time, the four-hundred-and-fifty-foot opening between the 
power-station and the dam was completely choked, then 
big pieces began to force their way through, and eventually 
the whole ice jam made its escape. 



Setting the River to Work. 121 

That ice jam was the beginning of the trouble. An ice- 
gorge formed several miles down the river, and dammed the 
river until it rose above the original level of the cofFer-dams, 
and men were kept busy working with steam-shovels to build 
the walls faster than the water could rise. In time the river 
began to subside, but within a few days another ice-gorge 
formed, and again the water commenced to rise. Finally, 
one night things became very threatening. The river was 
six feet higher than the original level of the cofFer-dam, and 
was still rising. A gang of fifty men was set to work building 
up the wall with a breastwork of sand-bags. The chief 
engineer himself came down to direct operations. In such 
circumstances, nothing could keep us boys at home, and 
Uncle Ed came along, to keep us out of trouble, he said, but 
I am sure he was just as anxious as we were to see the fun. 

We stayed there until long past midnight, helping with 
the sand-bags. Every now and then, a break in the wall 
would seem imminent, but some one was always on hand to 
check the mischief before it got under way. It was very 
exciting and rather weird, working there in the dark, and 
fighting that persistent river that kept rising inch by inch. 
It looked very ominous as it swirled by under the light of the 
arc lamps that were strung at infrequent intervals along the 
line of the cofFer-dam. We never knew when the water 
might take advantage of the inattention of some careless 
workman, open a gap in the frail wall of sand-bags that was 
only two feet wide, and, attacking us from the rear, over- 
whelm us and sweep us away to destruction. 



122 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

It was well past midnight before we felt that the situation 
had been mastered, and we were glad of a chance to go home. 
Suddenly a pufF of wind came down the river. Almost im- 
mediately another, stronger, pufF followed, and before we 
realized it, a fierce squall came upon us. With nothing to 
retard its clear sweep for miles, the water was driven before a 
howling gale, and, heartened by this unexpected reinforce- 
ment, the river renewed its onslaught. In a moment, the 
waves were dashing over our sand-bag wall. 

Back into the fight leaped the httle army of men. A 
hurried call brought a hundred more to reinforce our wearied 
ranks. It was as thrilling as real war. Five thousand bags 
of sand had been held in reserve for just such an emergency, 
and these were now rushed to the battle line. 

It was no simple matter to stagger along the parapet 
struggling under the load of a heavy sand-bag, with the 
waves dashing over our boots and threatening to undermine 
our footing; but we had to save that wall at all costs, for it 
guarded work that had meant the expenditure of enormous 
sums of money. An hour or more we struggled there in the 
night, until the squall suddenly subsided. We were ready 
to drop from exhaustion, and could scarcely stagger home, 
but our victory buoyed us. We had put up a brave fight, 
and, although much water had found its way over the coflTer- 
dam, the work had been saved. 




O 

Iz: 

o 

O 

Q 

O 
hJ 

H 
< 

O 




EXTERIOR VIEW OF A BLAST-FURNACE, SHOWING FURNACE AND SKIP BRIDGE 

IN FOREGROUND, AND DUST CATCHERS AND STACKS OF 

HOT BLAST STOVES IN THE BACKGROUND. 



CHAPTER XIII. 
TAMING STEEL WITH FIRE. 

When we asked Uncle Ed to tell us something about Gary, 
all we could get out of hini was, ''I don't know, boys. I 
went through the place eight years ago, and there wasn't the 
sign of a house anywhere around — nothing but a wilderness 
of sand." You can imagine our surprise, then, on getting 
off the train at Gary, to find ourselves in a flourishing city 
of nearly forty thousand inhabitants. That is what a steel 
plant did for a wilderness in eight years. 

Uncle Ed had brought a pass with him from the main 
offices in Chicago, and so a guide was appointed to pilot us 
around. 

"Are there any ore-boats in?" asked Uncle Ed. ''Take 
us over there, please, for I want these boys to see the whole 
show from start to finish." 

He led us past buildings from which issued mysterious 
clanking noises, past tall structures that looked like giant 
factory chimneys. 

''But there can't be anything very interesting in unloading 
a boat," protested Bill. 

"I suppose you think they take the stuff off in wheel- 
barrows," repHed Uncle Ed. "If it had to be done by 
hand, it would take an army of men a week or more; but now 
unloading machines do the whole job in a few hours." 

123 



124 Pick J Shovel and Pluck. 

The unloading machines were bridge-like structures 
mounted on wheels, and traveled on rails laid parallel to the 
dock line. Big grab-buckets, hung from the ends of gigantic 
scale-beams, moved forward over the boats, and dived down 
through the hatches into the holds, only to reappear in a 
moment with jaws shut tight over a huge bite of ore, which 
was dumped on shore, and afterward picked up by other 
buckets and dumped where required in the ore-yard. 

"But is that stuff iron.^^" I exclaimed. ''It looks just like 
red dirt." 

''Oh, yes; it's iron ore, and pretty good ore, too. We'll go 
back to the blast-furnaces now, and see what they do with it." 

The blast-furnaces proved to be the "factory chimneys" 
we had seen on our way to the ore-unloading machines. 
Alongside of each furnace were four "stoves," to heat the 
air that was blown into the furnace. The stoves were big 
fellows, almost as high and as big around as the furnaces. 

"Do you see that big pipe that goes all around the lower 
part of the furnace?" asked Uncle Ed. "That is called the 
'bustle pipe.' It feeds hot air to the 'tuyeres,' which are the 
pipes that carry the hot air into the furnace. They have 
copper nozzles, and are made hollow so that water can keep 
circulating through them; otherwise the intense heat of the 
furnace would burn them right out." 

"But why doesn't the furnace itself melt.^" I queried. 
"It is made of iron, isn't it.^" 

"Yes, outside; but it has a lining of fire-brick that will 
not melt, and that protects the outer shell." 



Taming Steel with Fire. 125 

'* Where is the door to the furnace?" I asked. 

"The door?" 

"Yes; where do they put the ore in?" 

"Why, they dump it in at the top. Don't you see that 
indined elevator leading up to the top of the furnace? 
There goes a car of ore now." 

"But there must be a furnace door somewhere to let the 
coal in," I persisted. 

"Oh, no. In the first place, they don't use coal, but coke, 
which is coal with the coal-gas baked out of it. The coke 
goes in at the top, too." 

"What! Over the iron?" I exclaimed, mystified. 

"Usually we build our fire under the pot of water we wish 
to boil," explained Uncle Ed; "but here the fuel and the ore 
go into the pot together. You see, this is not Hke any 
ordinary furnace you ever had anything to do with. There 
isn't even an ash-door at the bottom, because the ashes float 
on top of the iron that collects in the bottom of the furnace, 
and so the ashes are drained oflF from time to time in the 
shape of molten slag. If you could get ashes out of an ordi- 
nary furnace or a kitchen range like that, it would simplify 
housekeeping a lot. The earthy matter in the ore comes 
out in the slag, too. To make the ashes and dirt melt, a lot 
of Hmestone is put into the furnace with the ore and coke. 
The furnace is kept full all the time, but the charge is con- 
stantly settling as it burns, and the molten part trickles 
down to the bottom, and so more material has to be added 
at the top. The materials are added through a sort of air- 



126 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

lock, like those of the tunnels you went into last summer, 
because they have further use for the gases, and don't want 
them to escape." 

"I wish we could see the inside of the furnace,'^ remarked 
Bill, wistfully. 

**You can, if you want to," spoke up the guide. 

"Yes," put in Uncle Ed; "there are windows in every 
blast-furnace." 

"Windows!" Bill exclaimed. "Oh, you are joking!" 

"Yes, glass windows, only the glass is colored so that your 
eyes will not be injured by the dazzling glare of the in- 
candescent metal. They are in the tuyeres, behind the air- 
jets, where the glass will not melt." 

Uncle Ed pointed to a tiny peep-hole in the end of one of 
the tuyere pipes. It was just like the eyepiece of a telescope. 
When I peered in, I could plainly see the seething mass in the 
interior, with pieces of coke dancing in the blast of the 
tuyere. 

"They are about to 'flush the cinder,'" said the guide. 

"He means," explained Uncle Ed, "that they are going 
to drain off some of the slag." 

We saw a man pull a long-handled plug out of a hole in the 
side of the furnace, and out gushed a brilliantly glowing 
stream. 

"What do they do with it?" I asked. 

"Just watch it," said Uncle Ed. 

The stuff flowed along rather sluggishly down a trough 
banked with molders' sand. The trough ended rather 



Taming Steel with Fire. 1 27 

abruptly at the brink of a pit, and there, from under it, 
gushed a wide flat stream of water. The instant the slag 
struck the water, there was a burst of steam and it exploded 
into a hail-storm of hot pellets. 

"I suppose they do that to cool the stuff' quickly,'' I 
remarked. 

^^Oh, no; there is another object in view. They'll scoop 
the granulated stuff* out of the pit with a clam-shell bucket, 
and make Portland cement out of it. They'll crush it, mix 
it with lime, burn it, and powder it, and then it can be used 
for concrete work. They make money now out of stuff* that 
used to cost them money to get rid of a few years ago. 
Why, for every ton of iron they had half a ton of slag to 
dispose of, and you can imagine how pleased they were to 
find a use for the stuffs." 

"It is a wonderful sight!" said Bill, turning back and 
looking at the glowing stream. 

"Yes; but that's nothing to the splendor of the iron itself, 
as it runs out of the furnace," declared Uncle Ed. "You 
can find out for us, can't you, guide, when they are going to 
tap one of them?" 

As the guide turned off" to make inquiries, Uncle Ed re- 
marked reminiscently: "Yes, they have made a lot of 
wonderful improvements in ore-smelting in recent years, and 
that means a pile of money saved. Why, it is only a few 
years ago that they used to let all the blast of hot gas go to 
waste out of the top of the furnace. Now they burn the gas 
in the stoves. The stoves are filled with bricks to store up 



128 Pick J Shovel and Pluck. 

the heat. When they are hot enough, the gas is diverted to 
another stove, while air is pumped through the honeycomb 
of white-hot bricks. In that way, the air is made as hot 
as molten iron before it is pumped into the blast-furnace. 
After a time, the bricks grow comparatively cold, and the 
air is turned off and the gas is turned on again. I said the 
bricks grow cold, but not so cold that you would care to put 
your hands on them. In fact, they are so hot that the gas 
bursts into flame as soon as it strikes them/' 

"But," protested Bill, "isn't the gas that comes out of a 
furnace all burned out?'' 

"Ha, ha!" laughed Uncle Ed, "I thought you would ask 
about that. In other words, you want to know why, if there 
is anything left in the gas to burn, it didn't burn in the 
furnace? It's a perfectly natural question; and this is the 
answer: The gas that comes from an ordinary fire is gorged 
with about all the oxygen it can carry; it is called 'carbon 
dioxid.' But in a blast-furnace there is so much carbon 
present that there is not half enough oxygen to go round, and 
the gas is ready to devour more oxygen as soon as it strikes 
the air. This half-fed gas is called 'carbon monoxid,' and is 
very much like the stuff we burn in our gas-jets. In fact, 
they are now using this gas here to run two enormous gas- 
engine plants, because the furnaces produce far more gas 
than they can use in the stoves. One of these plants runs 
the pumps that force the air-blast through the stoves and 
furnaces, and the other plant produces enough electricity 
to run all the machinery in the works." 



Taming Steel with Fire. i2g 

Just then, our guide came back with the news that a 
certain furnace was about to be tapped. 

When we reached the furnace, men were at work at the 
tap-hole, out of which the molten iron was to pour. The 
brick paving in front of the furnace had a trough in it lined 
with sand, just Hke the trough for the slag, which was to 
guide the molten metal to the ladles that stood ready on 
cars below. The tap-hole was closed with a plug of clay, 
but this had been cut away until there was only a thin wall 
left that showed red from the heat within. At a cry of warn- 
ing, everyone stood aside except one man armed with a long 
bar, which he drove into the clay stopper. Out squirted the 
fiery metal pressed by tons of material overhead. In a 
moment, it had widened the breach through the clay to the 
full diameter of the tap-hole, and the dazzling white iron 
poured out in a torrent, while a veritable shower of sparks 
burst into the air and rained down upon us. We hastily 
backed out of range. Soon the stream of Hquid fire found 
its way to the farthermost ladle and began to fill it. The 
heat was so intense that we could not go anywhere near the 
stream, but one of the men with a long-handled ladle dipped 
up some of the liquid iron and poured it into a test mold. In 
a few minutes, it had cooled enough for him to take it out 
of the mold and break it in two. Then he took it over to an 
inspector, who gazed critically at the grain of the broken 
section to determine the character of the iron. 

Suddenly, there was a deafening roar. Bill and I were 
panic-stricken at once. To tell the truth, I had come to 



130 Piclz, Shovel and Pluck. 

the steel-works with the notion that it was a dangerous place 
at best, and I was really expecting trouble from the very 
start. Naturally I supposed that a horrible accident had 
occurred. The noise was very rasping and penetrating. 
Of course, while it lasted. Uncle Ed could not explain what 
it was, because he could not possibly pit his voice against 
that thunder. But his tantalizing smile assured us that 
there was no danger until he had a chance to explain that it 
was the "snort-valve." "The iron was coming out of the 
furnace a little too fast, and so they turned the * snort-valve' 
to shut off the air-blast from the tuyeres. The noise of that 
escaping air will give you some idea of the blast that is 
pumped into a furnace/' 

One after the other the ladles were filled, and then the train 
chugged ofF with them. We followed it over to a building 
where a crane picked up the ladles, one by one, and poured 
their contents into a big vessel so that they would be mixed 
with iron from other furnaces. 

"They call that a mixer," explained Uncle Ed. "It holds 
three hundred tons of molten iron — that's three times the 
weight of a good-sized locomotive — and yet the pot is 
mounted to turn on an axis, so as to pour out metal into the 
ladles as needed. There goes one now!" 

One of the mixers was being tilted by some huge invisible 
hand, "just like a giant tea-pot," as Uncle Ed put it, "spout- 
ing a stream of white-hot tea. And that tea-cup which we 
see there," pointing to the huge ladle, "holds sixty tons! 
Let's go on and see them turn that iron into steel." 



Taming Steel with Fire, 131 

I never had a very clear idea of the distinction between 
iron and steel, but now I learned that it is mainly the carbon 
that makes the difference. Cast-iron has more carbon in it 
than steel has, and steel, in turn, has more than wrought- 
iron. The ladle that we were following was on its way to the 
''open-hearth" furnaces, to have some of its carbon burned 
out. That open-hearth building was the largest building I 
had ever seen — nearly a quarter of a mile long, and close to 
two hundred feet wide. The furnaces were arranged in a 
row down the middle of the building. Outside they were 
not very interesting, but a gleam of light that showed through 
a hole in each furnace indicated that there was something 
doing inside. 

''They burn gas in these furnaces, not coke," explained 
Uncle Ed. "You see, if they brought any coke into con- 
tact with the iron, they would be simply adding more carbon 
to it. In order to make the fire very hot, the gas and the 
air that burns with it are heated before entering the furnace. 
On each side of the furnace there is a pair of stoves filled with 
brick. A stack sucks the burned gases out of the furnace 
into one pair of stoves, heating the bricks in it, while the air 
and gas are drawn into the furnace through the hot bricks 
in the other pair of stoves. Then a valve is turned reversing 
the current, so that the first two stoves do the heating, while 
the other two store up heat." 

"But if the air and the gas go into the furnace together, 
why don't they burn before they get to the furnace?" asked 
Bill. 



132 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

"The gas and air run through separate stoves and separate 
passages until they enter the furnace — Hold on, there!" 
cried Uncle Ed, as he saw Bill go to one of the peep-holes to 
look in. "Do you want to lose your eyes? Why, it is as 
bright as the sun in there/' 

"I'll get him a pair of glasses, sir," said the guide. He 
borrowed a pair of blue goggles from one of the men so that 
we could see the iron boiling into steel. 

"How long does it have to stay in there?" I inquired. 

"That depends somewhat upon the grade of steel that is 
to be made; that is, on the amount of carbon that is to be 
left in it. It takes anywhere from eight to twelve hours. 
But there is a way of doing it in as many minutes. Guide, 
suppose you take us over to the Bessemer plant next, so 
that these youngsters can see cast-iron turned into steel in 
ten minutes." 

"But we haven't any Bessemer furnaces at these works," 
said the guide. "We only make open-hearth steel here." 

"Oh, that's so; I forgot," exclaimed Uncle Ed. "We'll 
have to go back to Chicago to see them. I suppose they 
have Bessemer furnaces there?" 

"Yes, and they have an electric furnace, too, at the 
South Works." 

"Very well; we'll go there to-morrow." 

Tapping an open-hearth furnace cannot be compared in 
splendor with the tapping of a blast-furnace, but there is 
something so fascinating about the sight of liquid steel, 
that we had to stop and gaze at the spectacle until we had 




INTERIOR VIEW OF RAIL-MILL, SHOWING A BLOOM ABOUT TO ENTER A PASS 
IN THE *' three-high" BLOOMING-MILL. 




INTERIOR VIEW OF RAIL-MILL, SHOWING (iN THE FOREGROUND TO THE LEFT) 
STEEL COMING THROUGH THE FINISHING PASS ON ITS WAY TO THE SAWS. 




BLOWING A HEAT IN A BESSEMER CONVERTER. 



Taming Steel with Fire. 133 

seen a ladle filled to the brim and the slag drained off into a 
smaller ladle at the side. Then a giant traveling-crane 
picked up the ladle and carried it off to one end of the 
building. 

''Now they are going to cast the ingots/' said Uncle Ed, 
pointing to some large boxHke molds about two feet square 
and eight feet high. 

We watched the crane-man manceuver the ladle to 
position over them, and then a stream of molten metal 
poured out of the bottom of it into one of the open-mouthed 
molds. As each mold was filled, a cover was placed over it. 
The molds were made of cast-iron, and I noticed that they 
rested on little cars. These cars were coupled together to 
make a train, which was pulled out into the yard by a 
dinkey engine, as soon as all the molds had been filled. It 
looked as though the brightly glowing molds must surely 
topple over, as they swayed along the uneven track and 
swerved around the switches. They looked top-heavy, even 
though they were larger at the bottom than at the top. And 
that puzzled me, too, because they had been filled from the 
top, and I couldn't figure out how in the world they were 
going to get the ingot out. 

"Very simple," explained Uncle Ed, in answer to my 
query. "The mold is just a box, open at both top and 
bottom. It merely rests on a bottom plate. A 'stripping- 
machine' pulls the mold off from the top, leaving the ingot 
resting on the bottom plate." 

We saw that operation a moment later. The covers 



134 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

had already been removed, and then two hooks moved down 
over a pair of handles on the mold, and, while a plunger 
pressed down upon the glowing top of the ingot, the hooks 
pulled the mold up and lifted it clear of the ingot. After 
the molds had all been removed, the train pulled out with 
its incandescent white-hot columns, looking more ominous 
than ever as they swayed over the tracks. 

''Next, the ingots go to the soaking-pits," said Uncle Ed, 
''where the inside, which is still liquid, has a chance to be- 
come soHd; then they go to the 'blooming-mill,' where they 
are rolled down into 'blooms,' or smaller pieces, before going 
to the rail-mill to be rolled into steel rails.'' 

"Excuse me, sir," interrupted the guide; "we make our 
rails right from the ingot here." 

That was news to Uncle Ed. "Is that so!" he exclaimed. 
"Take us over there then, please. I know you pride your- 
selves on the rails you put out here." 

That rail-mill was certainly a wonderful sight! The 
enormous glowing ingots were carried on a transfer car to a 
sort of trough. The floor of the trough, or "table," as they 
call it, consisted of a series of rollers that were turning 
rapidly. Riding on them, the big clumsy ingot sailed along 
until it bumped against a pair of large steel rolls. Im- 
mediately the rolls seized it and hauled it through, like 
clothes through a clothes-wringer. We could not see that 
it had been flattened down very much, but we noticed that 
deep corrugations had been cut into its upper surface. As 
it moved on, the rollers turned it over on its side before it was 



Taming Steel with Fire. 135 

caught by the next pair or ^' stand" of rolls. It went 
through four stands in succession, turning over between each 
stand, until it had made a complete turn. Then it came to 
what is called a *' three-high" mill, which has three rolls, one 
above the other. First the ^' bloom," as it was now called, 
went between the middle and bottom rolls; but no sooner 
had it emerged, than it was raised bodily, the supporting 
roller ^^ tables" on both sides of the mill being raised up 
simultaneously. The rollers of the tables were then re- 
versed, causing the bloom to start back between the middle 
and top rolls. The tables were now lowered, their rollers 
reversed, and the bloom sent through between the middle 
and bottom rolls as before; but this^ime it was switched to 
one side, where the rolls were a little larger in diameter, and 
it was a tighter squeeze getting through them. And so the 
bloom went back and forth, being switched over to a tighter 
pass each time until it was squeezed down to about eight 
inches square and over forty feet long. Then it was cut in 
two, and each bloom went through another set of rolls that 
gradually worked it down to the size and shape of a rail. 
It was fascinating to watch that snakelike bar over a hun- 
dred feet long, writhing as if alive. As it came back for its 
last sally through the rolls, a whistle was blown as a warning 
that the rolling was finished, and the rail was now on its way 
to the saws. There were five circular saws that dropped 
down upon the glowing metal, and, amid a shower of sparks, 
sawed it into four ten-yard rails. After that, the rails were 
carried ofF on *' run-out tables" to the ''hotbeds" to cool. 



136 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

From the rail-mill we went to the plate-mill, and saw big 
slabs of steel rolled out into long thin sheets, but the process 
was so much like that of rolling rails, that I am not going 
to describe it here. 

The sights we saw at Gary were so impressive that we 
thought there could be little more to see at South Chicago, 
except possibly the electric furnace; but the Bessemer plant 
proved to be the most wonderful and spectacular thing yet. 
The Bessemer converter was a big barrel-shaped vessel, open 
at the top and with a lot of nozzles in the bottom, connected 
with an air-blast. The vessel was mounted so that it could 
be rocked over to the horizontal position. Then a ladleful 
of molten iron was poured into the converter, the air-blast 
was turned on, and the ponderous vessel slowly turned back 
to its upright position. The scores of air-jets blowing 
through the metal set it to boiling violently. A column of 
fire, sparks, and white-hot gases poured out of the mouth of 
the furnace, and every now and then, splashes of molten 
metal were blown, by bursting bubbles, high into the air, 
and exploded into showers of sparks. I never saw fire- 
works to equal that spectacle. All the time there was a 
steady roar, as the air forced its way up through the molten 
metal. In about ten minutes, the operation was over, and 
the vessel, still blowing a stream of fire, turned slowly over 
and poured out the freshly made steel. 

As we were walking toward one of the open-hearth build- 
ings, we were again startled by an explosion. A burst of 
flame shot out of the door, and almost at the same instant, 





Bb ?l^-i 


*. " 




■j 


BU^i 




I^^^K , 'Hk^f^ 


^^^^ 


% 


r-^^8 


^^^Iftvi^n 




1 






1 






1 


i^^^^^^^^^O 


ttI 


1 


^^^^^Ik^ 1 




HKe^ 




j '" 


f 


If ^ 




1 


1 


r 


■ 


1^ 



**A BURST OF FLAME SHOT OUT OF THE DOOR, AND ALMOST AT THE SAME 
INSTANT, FOUR OR FIVE MEN LEAPED OUT OF A WINDOW." — See page I36. 




ALL ABOUT WAS THE WILDEST CONFUSION OF RED, GREEN AND YELLOW 

LIGHTS." — See page 143. 



Taming Steel with Fire. 137 

four or five men leaped out of a window to the ground. We 
rushed forward to see what was the matter. 

^'Oh, look! look!" cried Bill. 

There was a runway along the outside of the building 
about twenty feet above the ground, and a lot of windows 
opening out to it. A man had leaped out of one of the 
windows to the runway, wild-eyed and greatly excited. His 
clothing was afire, and he stopped to beat out the blaze, 
when suddenly he began to rush along the runway again, 
and presently dodged back into the building. 

''Why, the fellow is crazy," exclaimed Uncle Ed; ''the 
excitement has gone to his head." 

We dared not enter the building at that point, for a mass 
of molten steel lay in a pool on the floor; but we ran to the 
opposite end and crowded in with a number of others who 
had collected to see what had happened. 

There was the man who had dashed out upon the runway, 
climbing out of his crane-cab, his clothing still smoking. 
Hanging from one hook, with the tackle at the other side 
slacked away, was the ladle that had done all the mischief, 
still pouring a trickle of molten metal. 

The men all crowded around the crane-man when he came 
down. He was pretty cool, considering the fact that his 
hair was singed and big patches of his clothing were burned 
away. 

"What happened?" he was asked. 

"Don't know. Something broke, and there was a spill. 
I jumped out of me cab to get out of the way of the explosion." 



138 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

*^But why did you go back again?" queried Uncle Ed. 

*'To stop the crane. I had to jump too quick to turn off 
the power." 

''Do you mean to say you thought of that.?" 

''Sure! I ran along ahead of the crane until the first 
flare was over, and then went back in again and jumped 
aboard the crane as she come along. You see, there was 
men in the pit as might not have a chance to get out in time, 
and, besides, if I hadn't ha' stopped her, she'd ha' gone to 
smash and Hke as not 'a' busted a hole through the side of 
the building. You see, I just had to stop her." 

An inspector arrived just then and began an investigation. 
Not a life had been lost. Except for the crane-man, no one 
had been injured. He was only slightly burned, and pro- 
tested vigorously against going to the doctor. No property 
had been destroyed; merely a ladleful of metal was lost. 
The cause of the accident was a broken bearing on the 
winding drum of the crane. 

"But what made the explosion?" I asked. 

"There is always an explosion when hot metal spills on 
moist ground," replied the inspector. 

"The steel business is pretty dangerous," remarked 
Uncle Ed. 

"You mustn't think that a thing like this happens every 
day," answered the inspector. "Why, we haven't had a 
spill like that in years. No, the steel business is no longer 
the dangerous one it used to be. We are spending so much 
on safety precautions that our men are actually safer here 



Taming Steel with Fire. 139 

in these works than on the streets of New York or Chicago. 
In proportion to our numbers, we have fewer accidents than 
they have in the big cities." 

We learned later that the crane-man who had proved such 
a hero was rewarded by a banquet, and a raise of pay, which 
was particularly acceptable, because he had been planning 
to get married the following month. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

IN THE LOCOMOTIVE CAB OF THE 
"STARLIGHT LIMITED." 

I KNEW a man once who could sleep to order. If he had, 
say, ten minutes to spare, he would lean back in his arm- 
chair, take his watch in his hand, and immediately begin 
to snore. Exactly ten minutes later, to the dot, he would 
sit up with a start, rub his eyes, put his watch back into his 
pocket without once looking at it, and go about his business. 
What subtle, sleep-inducing influence that timepiece had 
over him I never could understand. It was uncanny,^ and 
yet rd have given anything for a watch so hypnotic or a 
brain so easily quieted. 

I had been tossing restlessly, in my berth on the *' Star- 
light Limited," ever since six o'clock, and here it was after 
eleven! I simply could not get to sleep, although I had 
gone to bed before sundown so as to put in six good hours of 

slumber before reaching Pittsburgh, and then ! It was 

the anticipation of the joy awaiting me there that had 
banished sleep from my eyes. 

Uncle Ed had arranged a treat that transcended my 
wildest dreams — a ride in the locomotive of a crack express 
train. Bill was enjoying that treat as the train whirled 
across Ohio, and from Pittsburgh to Harrisburg I was to 

140 



In the Locomotive Cab of the ^^ Starlight Limited,'' 141 

have my turn — a wild night ride through the Alleghany 
Mountains in the locomotive cab of the *^ Starlight Limited." 
There was something catchy about that phrase. It seemed 
to rhyme with the throbbing roar of the train. "The loco- 
motive cab of the 'Starlight Limited/'' the train seemed 
to say, over and over again, until it grew very monotonous. 
Suddenly I was awakened by a swarthy porter. 

'' Pittsburgh!" he shouted. 

I had been asleep after all. The train was pulHng into 
the station. I had gone to bed fully clothed so that I should 
not lose any time dressing. All I had to do was to slip on 
my coat and shoes. The instant the train stopped, I 
jumped off and ran forward. Bill met me half-way, his 
face so grimy with soot and coal-dust that I scarcely recog- 
nized him. 

"My, but it was great!" he exclaimed, as he pulled off his 
suit of overalls and handed them to me. "I wish I were 
going on over the mountains with you; but you won't make 
the speed we did. Why, at one place we ran five miles in 
three minutes and a half! That's over ninety-two miles 
an hour!" 

I hadn't time to hear all Bill had to say. As soon as I had 
slipped on the overalls, I snatched the automobile goggles 
he handed me to keep the cinders out of my eyes, and made 
off. 

When I reached the front of the train. Bill's engine was 
gone, but presently I made out the huge bulk of a fresh 
locomotive, looming up out of the darkness. Slowly it 



142 Picky Shovel and Pluck. 

backed down to the train, bumped gently against it, and 
then halted, panting impatiently for the signal to start. 
The engineer jumped out, torch in one hand and oil-can in 
the other. 

^'Excuse me, sir," I interrupted, *^but are you the en- 
gineer of this train?" 

*'Yep," he answered; "I suppose you're the visitor we're 
expecting. I'll be with you directly. I want to look over 
my engine a bit." 

I followed him around while he added a drop of oil here 
and there and put on the last finishing touches to the ma- 
chinery. Then he straightened up, and patted the loco- 
motive aflPectionately. 

'* She's a daisy!" he said. "Finest engine in the world, / 
say. Latest thing out of the shops. You're lucky to have 
a chance to ride on her." 

I agreed with him. 

"Now, sir. Where's your letter of introduction?" 

I handed him the precious document. 

"All right!" he said, glancing at it hurriedly. "Jump 
on." I followed him up the steps to the cab. 

"You can sit over on the fireman's side," he continued. 
"I can't be bothered with you. Jack, here's somebody to 
keep you company. Let me see, what's your name? Oh 
yes, 'Jim.' This is Mr. John Douglass, better known as 
'Big Jack.'" 

Big Jack, the fireman, gave me a hand-shake that I 
thought would break every bone in my hand. He motioned 



In the Locomotive Cab of the ''Starlight Limited ^ 143 

me to a seat on the left side of the cab, and I sat down, 
staring wonderingly at the strange gage-cocks, dials, levers, 
and complex apparatus before me. 

*' Isn't she a beauty!" exclaimed Big Jack. 

*'Yes,'' I answered doubtfully. I couldn't exactly see 
why they called her a beauty. To me, the engine was 
just an enormous monster of steel; 293,250 pounds, loaded, 
so Big Jack informed me. Right behind was a car-load of 
food and drink for this monster — 26,000 pounds of coal, 
enough to heat a country house all winter, and 7,000 gallons 
of water. 

"Will she use up all that coal before she gets to New 
York?" I asked. 

''New York? Why, this engine only goes as far as Al- 
toona. She won't have much coal to spare by the time she 
gets there, and as for the water, we'll have to pick up more 
o' that before we get to Johnstown." 

Just then, a little whistle somewhere in the engine gave a 
thin ''peep" that seemed absurdly weak as a starting-signal 
for so gigantic a machine. 

"We're off!" cried Big Jack, tugging at the bell- rope. 

Charlie Martine, the engineer, pulled open the throttle, 
and the huge locomotive glided majestically out into the 
night. All about was the wildest confusion of red, green, 
and yellow lights: "home" and "distance" block signals, 
switch lamps, headlights, taillights, waving signal lanterns- 
How in the world could the engineer thread his way through 
them? Yet he went on with perfect confidence. He knew 



144 Pick J Shovel and Pluck. 

which of the hundreds of Hghts concerned his particular 
path through that maze. I was content to leave it all to 
him. The long-longed-for moment had arrived. I was 
really riding in the locomotive cab of the ''StarHght 
Limited!" 

My joy knew no bounds when the fireman said, *'You 
may ring the bell if you want to." I never expected that I 
would actually have a hand in running the ^'Starlight 
Limited!" I went at the task with a vim, and pulled on 
that rope until the bell tumbled over and over. 

We were gathering speed right along. I found riding in a 
locomotive very different from riding in a parlor car. The 
springs of a locomotive are so much stifFer that, instead of 
swaying smoothly, everything was shaking around and 
dancing violently. A lurch of the engine threw me over 
toward the boiler, and I came into contact with something 
so unpleasantly hot that I took particular pains to avoid 
another such encounter. 

We were running through a chasm walled in on both sides, 
with the city streets crossing overhead, so there was but 
little to see. The fireman was very busy. Every now and 
then, he and the engineer would shout something to each 
other that sounded like ''Here!" It got on my nerves at 
first, until I found that they were caUing the signal ''Clear!" 
According to the rules of the road, not only the engineer, 
but the fireman as well, must watch the signals. After each 
signal the fireman would jump down off the "box," open the 
furnace door, put in two or three shovelfuls of coal, and then 




INSPECTING THE LOCOMOTIVE BEFORE THE START. 




'gazing calmly AHEAD AND ATTENDING STRICTLY TO BUSINESS." — 

See page 148. 




Q 
W 
Q 
< 
O 



O 



ON 



o 

pi! 

W 
H 

m 

:z; 

o 



o 

Pi 
o 

w 




In the Locomotive Cab of the '^Starlight Limited.'' 145 

slam the door shut. Then he would jump up on the box, 
and encourage me with my bell-pulling. 

"How do you know when to throw in the coal?'' I shouted. 

"I watch the fire/' was his reply, "and as soon as it gets 
ashy in any spot, I throw a shovelful of coal on that spot." 

"I should think some machine might be invented to do 
the work." 

"They are experimenting with an automatic stoker on 
some of our engines. Maybe they'll perfect the machine 
some day, but for the present they seem to think that they 
need the man on most of our engines. You see, it takes more 
brains to be a fireman than you would imagine." 

"Yes," I yelled; "you firemen don't get half the credit 
you deserve." I had a hundred questions to ask, but it was 
almost impossible to make one's self heard in that racket. 

Just then, there was a sudden glare of light, a roar, and a 
blast of air struck me, swept my cap clear off, and threw me 
against the boiler, from which I recoiled instantly. 

"What was that!" 

"No. 29 — the * Starlight Limited,' west-bound," shouted 
Big Jack. "Going some, too. She's a bit late." 

We were at East Liberty now, and had shot out of the 
long chasm. We had been climbing steadily for six miles 
up a steep grade, and soon we had a splendid view of the 
valley that was spread out below us. Off to the right we 
could see the flaring red lights of the steel mills and the glow 
of the street lamps at Pittsburgh. Low over the hills ahead 
of us hung the distorted figure of the belated moon, which, 



146 Picky Shovel and Pluck. 

though now on its last quarter, lit up the whole valley with a 
soft, fairy-like illumination. 

But I was in no mood for fairy dreams. We were running 
downhill now, at full speed, flying along at fifty to sixty 
miles per hour, and still gaining speed. Flying, I said, but 
not with the smooth, easy motion of a creature of flesh and 
blood, but with the banging, clanking, shrieking, rocking 
gait of a gigantic steel mastodon. Beneath us tons of metal 
in the shape of connecting-rods, side-rods, cross-heads, 
pistons, valve-gear, and I don't know what-not, were 
pounding back and forth as if they were bent on tearing the 
whole machine to pieces. The big eighty-inch drivers were 
making four revolutions a second, and each full turn of the 
wheels meant an advance of twenty-one feet. 

Suppose something should give way! Suppose the con- 
necting-rod should break loose! I had heard of such an 
accident once, and the big steel bar, thrashing around, 
sliced through the engine cab as if it had been so much card- 
board. Or suppose a rail should give way! There they 
were stretching out ahead of us. I had seen how those rails 
were made; how, softened by heat, they were rolled into 
shape as if they were made of lead. Now they were gleam- 
ing, not of their own light, but in the cold glint of the moon, 
rigid, inflexible, holding this lumbering monster to its course. 

My, how the engine did tear around the curves! Even 
on a straight stretch, or ^^ tangent," as it is properly called, 
every slightest unevenness of the road-bed was exaggerated 
tenfold. It was all I could do to hang on to my side of the 



In the Locomotive Cab of the ''Starlight Limited,'' 147 

cab. I had only one hand free to ring the bell, and I was 
getting very tired. I had been ringing it for a quarter of 
an hour straight. 

The fireman came up and felt of my muscle. "How 
would you like to trade jobs?" he shouted. 

I was ready to do almost anything for a change. *'Say/' 
I yelled, "how do you do this when you^re alone? I mean, 
ring the bell and stoke the engine at the same time?" 

"Oh, I don't ring the bell, except through the yards at 
Pittsburgh." 

"Why didn't you tell me that long ago?" I demanded. 

"I thought you were doing it for exercise!" Big Jack 
said, fairly exploding with laughter. 

I realized then that I had been making a fool of myself, 
and dropped the rope in disgust. With that responsibility 
off my hands, I had a better chance to analyze the sensations 
that had vaguely impressed themselves upon me thus far. 
One of the queerest things was the way objects appeared to 
rush at us out of the darkness. Things grew big with 
terrifying rapidity. The ground seemed to slip under us 
so fast that it gave me the peculiar sensation of sliding for- 
ward, and I found myself edging back toward the rear of the 
cab. But the most astonishing sensation was at curves. 
The road would appear to end abruptly, and then, when it 
seemed as if we must be surely going to fly off into the 
yawning chasm below, the engine would give a lurch and 
go careening around the bend. If the track should spread 
and we should go over, the steel coaches behind us would 



148 Picky Shovel and Pluck. 

roll down the bank unharmed; but what of us in the loco- 
motive? We would not have ''the ghost of a show.'/ 

It was reassuring to look across the cab at the clear-cut 
profile of the engineer gazing calmly ahead and attending 
strictly to business. The cry ''Clear!'' every so often, 
showed that my companions were both on the alert. Then, 
as we swung around a curve, I saw two red lights directly 
ahead of us. *' Clear!" came the monotonous cry. 

"No; danger!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, "a red 
light — two of them — dead ahead! Don't you see? Can't 
you see? We'll hit them in a minute!" But by that time 
we had passed the lights, and I realized that they marked 
the rear end of a side-tracked freight. I collapsed upon the 
seat, mopping the perspiration from my brow^, and resolving 
to leave it all to the engineer after this. He hadn't paid the 
slightest attention to my agitation. 

Now and then, there was a hiss of steam as the engineer 
turned a valve to read the water-gage, or as he applied the 
brakes before taking a sharp curve. Suddenly an unearthly 
screech set my hair on end. It was our own whistle. The 
watchful engineer had seen some one on the track, and had 
taken this method of informing him that he was trespassing. 
If the whistle had anything like the effect on the man that 
it had on me, he must automatically have cleared the track 
with a bound. 

At one place, we seemed to be running right into a hill. 
Certainly there was no break in the ridge ahead that would 
let us pass. Then I made out the black mouth of a tunnel. 



In the Locomotive Cab of the ''Starlight Limited.'" 149 

The engineer turned a lever, there was the hiss of escaping 
steam, followed by the grinding of the brakes, as our train 
slowed down. The fireman opened the furnace door 
slightly so that no smoke would pour out of the stack, and 
then came up on the box beside me. It wouldn't do to 
stoke the fire while going through the tunnel, because that 
would make smoke and vitiate the air. 

In another instant we had leaped into the open mouth of 
the mountain and were plunged into the blackest of darkness. 
The only light in the engine cab was a lantern almost com- 
pletely covered up and throwing but a sickly beam of light 
on the gages. Away up forward, our headlight lit up the 
walls of the tunnel and illuminated a small patch of the track 
ahead of us. The racket in that cavern as we went tearing 
through was almost more than my ears could endure. 

The tunnel was about a third of a mile long. It could not 
have taken us a minute to traverse it, but it seemed very 
much longer than that before we shot out into the moonlight 
again on the other side of the mountain. Then the fireman 
jumped down and piled on more coal, while the engineer 
opened up the throttle to regain lost speed. On we went, 
rushing through freight-yards where there were so many 
lights that I thought the engineer must surely be mad to go 
through them without slackening our pace in the least. 

At one point, the fireman informed me that we were going 
to take on water. On a level stretch right ahead of us, I 
caught the gleam of moonlight in the water-trough that lay 
between the tracks. There was a post bearing a blue-white 



150 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

light as a signal to drop the scoop. Just as we came op- 
posite the light, the engineer shouted "Now!" and the fire- 
man turned a pneumatic valve that lowered the scoop into 
the trough. The speed of the train was enough to send the 
water shooting right up that scoop into the water-tank of 
the tender. Just as we reached the signal-light at the op- 
posite end of the trough, the engineer gave another shout; 
but Big Jack had already raised the scoop, for he had been 
watching the manhole at the rear of the tender, and the water 
spurting out had told him that the tank was full. 

We parsed through Johnstown, the city that was once 
wiped out by a flood. It lay there now, quite still and peace- 
ful in that fateful valley whose ominous echoes were awak- 
ened by the thunder of our train. On to Conemaugh we 
sped, and then came the long, hard climb up to the top of the 
Alleghany Mountains. Over twenty miles of stiff grades 
and sharp curves wormed up to the summit. 

My, how the fireman worked! I never realized before 
what an important personage the fireman is. He got 
scarcely a moment's rest during that whole climb. He was 
almost constantly shoveling coal into the rapacious maw of 
that hungry monster. But he did not forget the signals. 
He seemed to know exactly where they were, and just at the 
right instant he would snatch a moment from his work to 
lean out, catch the signal, and shout it to the engineer. 
Yes, I thought, when we get in on time to-morrow morning, 
the passengers, if they think about the crew at all, will give 
all their praise to the engineer for his watchful attention to 



In the Locomotive Cab of the ''Starlight Limited.'' 151 

signals, and his skilful guidance of the train while they slept; 
but they will never give a moment's thought to the grimy, 
perspiring fireman who is as watchful of the signals as is the 
man at the throttle, while at the same time toiling at the 
Herculean task of trying to appease the hunger of that 
ravenous locomotive. There was a heavy train behind us. 
The cars weighed three tons for every passenger they carried. 
Had the fireman faltered at his task, the locomotive would 
have balked at hauling such a load up those steep grades. 
As a matter of fact, most of the trains have a helper loco- 
motive to take them up to the summit; but this train was 
obliged to go it alone. 

At last the laboring fireman threw down his shovel, left 
the fire-door ajar, and jumped up on the box beside me. As 
if weary of the zigzag chase up the slope, the track sud- 
denly dived into the heart of the mountain, and we plunged 
in after it. 

This tunnel was almost as long as the first one. When we 
emerged, we were on the Atlantic slope of the range with a 
down grade before us. The scenery was magnificent, par- 
ticularly when, a few minutes later, we came to the far 
famed "Horseshoe Curve." The road swept around three 
sides of the reservoir of the city of Altoona, which was still 
five miles ahead. On the other side of the great curve, I 
could make out a train, apparently running parallel with us, 
but uphill. Evidently the fireman was stoking his engine 
furiously, for it was belching billows of smoke that were 
beautifully illuminated as they floated into the glare shed 



152 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

from the open fire-door. The next minute we had rounded 
the curve, and went shooting past that laboring train. 

On down the mountain we sped at a frightful pace. Al- 
most before I knew it, the air-brakes were applied, and we 
came to a halt at Altoona. This was not a passenger stop, 
but one for changing engines. Mr. Martine spoke to me now 
for the first time since we had started from Pittsburgh. He 
suggested that I go back to my sleeper now, and have a 
good rest."" But I hadn't had quite enough yet, and, be- 
sides, I wanted to run at least as far as Bill had. So I 
climbed out of the engine, and, while I waited for the next 
one to come along, munched a couple of sandwiches that 
Uncle Ed had very thoughtfully reminded me to put in my 
pocket. 

I am glad that I took that ride from Altoona to Harris- 
burg, for there was one experience that gave me a delightful 
thrill. The ride was a beautiful one, too. The scenery 
rivaled anything I had ever seen. We crossed the Juniata 
River fourteen times within a few miles. 

I was beginning to get drowsy, despite the beauty of the 
scenery and the violent shaking of the locomotive, and had 
almost fallen asleep, when I was startled by the shout 
*'Red eye!" in place of the customary "Clear!" and almost 
simultaneously the emergency brakes were applied. I was 
wide awake in an instant. There was the red light down the 
track, and we were bearing down upon it at a frightful speed. 
We couldn't stop, and the man who was holding the lantern 
had to jump out of the way as we shot by. Our brakes were 



In the Locomotive Cab of the ''Starlight Limited ^ 153 

grinding and shrieking, but we kept on around a sharp 
curve, and there before us were the tailHghts of a freight- 
train. In a moment we would crash into it, and then what ? 
It never occurred to me to jump. It certainly seemed safer 
in the locomotive than anywhere else. Just as a colHsion 
seemed inevitable, we ran past the caboose and four or five 
cars, before coming to a stop. I had been fooled again. 
The train was on an adjoining track. 

But why had we been signaled? There was no wreck. 
The fireman explained it to me. 

^^It is one of the rules of the road,'' he said, ^^that when a 
freight-train stops very suddenly because the brakes haven't 
been put on right, trains must be flagged on the next track 
until an investigation can be made, because sometimes the 
freight-train may ^'buckle" and throw a car across the 
adjoining track. Once when I was firing on the J. G. & Z., 
a freight buckled and threw an empty box-car square across 
the track just as we came along. By George! we hadn't a 
second's warning. Before I had time to bhnk, we hit that 
car right in the middle and cut it clean in two. The *old 
man' didn't even have time to turn the brake lever, but the 
people back there in the sleepers never knew a thing had 
happened." 

It was a pretty tired chap that climbed out of the loco- 
motive at Harrisburg and staggered down the platform to 
his sleeping-car. No trouble now in getting to sleep. Even 
before the train had started on its next lap, I was off in 
slumberland. I knew nothing of this mortal world, until 



154 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

Bill fairly hauled me out of bed about half-past nine and bade 
me hustle, as we had almost reached New York. 

The first thing Uncle Ed did after we arrived at the city- 
was to take us both to a Turkish bath, where strenuous 
efforts were made to restore our Caucasian complexion. 



CHAPTER XV. 
FLOATING A STEEL TUNNEL. 

Before taking a train for home, I went with Bill and Uncle 
Ed to pay my respects to Dr. McGreggor, and thank him 
for the fine trip he had given me. 

"Ha, young man," he grunted, as soon as he caught sight 
of me, "so you are back at last, are you?" 

"Yes, sir," I answered; "and I want to thank you for the 
finest time I ever had in my life, particularly last night. 
That ride on the locomotive was simply great!" 

"Locomotive, did you say?" 

"Yes; on the 'Starlight Limited.^" 

"Edward Jordan!" exclaimed Dr. McGreggor, turning to 
his partner. "You don't mean to tell me that you let these 
youngsters ride in the locomotive of an express-train." 

"Maybe I shouldn't have done it," repHed Uncle Ed, 
quite apologetically. "I must confess that I did have some 
misgivings on the subject, particularly after promising Jim's 
parents that I would be personally responsible for his wel- 
fare " 

"I should say you would!" growled Dr. McGreggor. 

"But," continued Uncle Ed, "I'll never forget my first 
ride in a locomotive, when I was about their age, and I 
couldn't resist giving them the treat. At any rate, nobody 



156 Pick^ Shovel and Pluck. 

was hurt, and FU warrant you the fun was worth the slight 
risk; wasn't it, boys?'* 

'^Yes, siree! Wouldn't have missed it for the world!" 

But Dr. McGreggor continued to shake his head. ''The 
next trip you take, young man," he said to me, "will be under 
my personal guidance and supervision, and I'll see that you 
don't risk your neck, just for some foolish experience. By 
the way, what are you going to do now to earn your board 
and keep?"j 

''Why, I expect to go home and work in the paper-mill, 
if they will have me." 

"They won't," snapped Dr. McGreggor. "They don't 
want you. They have another boy there now. Besides, 
I don't see any use in your wasting your time at such a job 
as that, anyhow. If you are going to become an engineer, 
you ought to work in an engineer's office. Mr. Jordan is 
going to put Bill in our drafting room to keep him out of 
mischief; I guess there is room for you there, too." 

"Oh, thanks!" I exclaimed, delighted. "Nothing could 
suit me better." 

"Hold on, now," growled Dr. McGreggor; "this isn't 
play. You'll find no thrilHng adventures here; nothing but 
a stiff grind of work — the real work of engineering." 

The following Monday, after a few days' visit at home, I 
was initiated into the drafting room of Messrs. McGreggor 
and Jordan. Bill had the advantage over me there. He 
was a natural artist, handy with the pencil and quick at 
figures, while I had but the vaguest idea of the use of drafts- 




GOING DOWN IN A CAISSON TO UNDERPIN A BUILDING. 




THE FIRE-BOAT HOUSE SHIPPED UPON A SCOW AND TOWED TO A NEW SITE 

A MILE UP-STREAM. 




LIFTING A TUNNEL SECTION OFF THE STAGING ON WHICH IT WAS BUILT, 
BY MEANS OF FLATBOATS RAISED BY THE TIDE. 




LAUNCH OF THE TUNNEL SECTION. PHOTOGRAPH TAKEN JUST AS ONE OF 
THE FLATBOATS HAD SUNK AND THE SECTION WAS LURCHING TO THAT SIDE. 



Floating a Steel Tunnel. 157 

men^s tools. The hours were long: From eight-thirty to 
five-thirty. It was hard for a boy who had lived out of 
doors so much to spend eight hours a day staring at ink and 
tracing-cloth; but I was determined to make good. 

Uncle Ed had to leave on an extended trip again, which 
left us under the sole care of Dr. McGreggor; but, although 
he growled and scolded a great deal, I was not disturbed, 
because I knew that that was his way of conceaHng a very 
kind heart. In fact, he scolded most just before he was 
going to do us some special kindness. One day he called 
us into his office and said: *^Here is an old friend of 
yours." 

It was Mr. Hotchkiss, the man who found us at the top of 
the Manhattan Syndicate Building. *' Hello, Bill! Hello, 
Jim!'^ he cried. "I thought you would end up in an engineer's 
office.'^ 

*^ Yes," said Dr. McGreggor, *^ we're giving them a taste of 
the real thing this time. No excitement — ^just steady work. 
I think they might as well take a vacation this morning." 
Turning to us, he continued: ^^Mr. Hotchkiss is going up to 
look at the new Harlem River tunnel. You had better go 
along with him; you may learn something. Better hurry 
along now, or you'll miss the launching." 

^'Launching!" I exclaimed, ^^what has that to do with a 
tunnel?" 

^'Run right along," he commanded, waving us to the 
door. "Mr. Hotchkiss will tell you all about it." 

"Well," began Mr. Hotchkiss, as we seated ourselves in 



158 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

an elevated train, ''this is not the kind of a tunnel you 
worked in last summer; no' shield, no compressed air " 

''Are they going through rock?" I interrupted. 

"Oh, no. The rock is too far under the surface. It's the 
simplest scheme you ever heard of. Do you know, if only 
we looked upon things in a bigger, broader way, they would 
be much simplified. If a giant were going to build us a 
house, he wouldn't bother to put it up brick by brick. He 
would cast the whole side of the house in one slab of concrete, 
then he'd fasten four such slabs together, and there would 
be your house all finished, except the trimmings, in a couple 
of days; or, if he was going to build a wooden house, he would 
go down cellar, select a giant packing-box, and make the 
house just as you would make a doll house. It is the same 
with tunneling. He would never bother with compressed 
air. He would go about it just as my brother and I did 
when we made the tunnel for a toy gravity railroad we used 
to have. There was a spring on the hill back of our barn, 
and a little stream ran down from it to the river that bordered 
our farm. We ran our gravity railroad down this hill, and 
had it cross the stream on a miniature bridge in one place, 
and duck under it through a tunnel near the bottom of the 
hill. Our tunnel was about eight inches in diameter. How 
do you suppose we built it? We didn't make hard work of 
it. My brother found a furnace pipe that was in a good 
state of preservation. So we dug a trench across the tiny 
stream and buried the pipe in it. The pipe was well covered 
with clay so that it would not leak, and at each end we built 



Floating a Steel Tunnel, 159 

a clay bulkhead to wall off the water from the open ends of 
the pipe. That's exactly the way this Harlem River tunnel 
is to be constructed. They have dug a trench across the 
bed of the river thirty-four feet deep, I mean thirty-four feet 
below the normal bottom of the river, and now they are 
read}^ to bury their big 'furnace pipe' in it." 

"Do you mean they are going to put it all down in one 
piece?" 

*'0h, my, no! The tunnel is going to be a fifth of a mile 
long, and that would be just a little too much to handle. 
Besides, the river has to be kept open to navigation all the 
time, and the Harlem is a pretty busy stream for its size. 
No; they are going to lay the tunnel in five sections; four, 
two hundred and twenty feet long, and the fifth, two hundred 
feet in length. There will be a four-track subway running 
under the river, and so each section will be made up of four 
tubes abreast. What we are going to see right now, if we 
get there in time, is the launching of one of these tube 
sections, and then Monday they are going to sink it in the 
trench and connect it with the section they sank a couple of 
months ago. The engineer in charge is an old friend of Dr. 
McGreggor's, and he will let us see the whole show." 

''I should think," remarked Bill, ''that it would be pretty 
hard to line up the sections properly." 

"Oh, that has all been provided for. They have sunk 
piles in the trench, and connected them with crosspieces at 
just the right height to support the tunnel sections at the 
correct grade. They have had quite a job getting the bed 



i6o Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

ready for the tunnel. I suppose you heard about the fire- 
boat house they had to move? It was right in the Hne of the 
tunnel, and they had to get it out of the way; so they built 
a new concrete foundation for it, a little ways up-stream, and 
ran a set of fire-alarm and telephone wires to the new site, 
ready to connect up at a moment^s notice. Then when 
everything was ready, they jacked up the building, put 
rollers under it, moved it off its foundations upon a scow, 
towed it to its new location, and rolled it off upon its new 
foundations. Electricians were on hand waiting for it, and 
they began to connect up the wires at once. In two hours' 
time their job was done, and the fire-house was ready ^ to 
handle fire-alarms. They have had some diflSculty, too, 
with buildings along the approach to the tunnel whose 
foundations were liable to be undermined. In some cases, 
they have had to build new foundations under them. Yes, 
they have actually had to sink caissons down under the walls 
and build piers to support them. But the most ticklish 
place of the lot was at the cable-house on the other side of the 
river, where the electric power cables of the New York 
Central Railroad come up out of the water and are connected 
to the land lines. The trench runs so deep that the cable- 
house had to be propped up with piles. If it sagged and 
parted the cables, the whole railroad system would be 
tied up.'* 

We were rather surprised, when we reached our desti- 
nation, to find that the tunnel tubes were built up of curved 
steel plates. Somehow, I had the notion that they would be 



Floating a Steel Tunnel. l6i 

cast solid, but I hadn't realized that they were so large. 
They were about nineteen feet in diameter, but with adjoin- 
ing sides flattened; and then, running across all four of the 
tubes every fifteen feet, were plates of steel that they called 
'diaphragms/' At each side, the tunnel section was in- 
closed with a wall of planking secured to the ends of the 
diaphragms, forming pockets between the diaphragms which, 
Mr. Hotchkiss told us, would be filled with concrete to keep 
the tunnel down. 

''A pretty big set of 'furnace pipes,' eh?" he chuckled. 
''Weighs as much as a good-sized ship. It doesn't look as 
big here as it would if you set it down in Broadway, say. 
Why, it would choke up the whole street for a block up to the 
top of the second-story windows! In fact, you couldn't 
squeeze it into lower Broadway, because this is about eighty 
feet wide." 

"Well, we are in plenty of time," remarked Bill. "They 
haven't begun the launching yet." 

"Oh, yes, they have!" contradicted Mr. Hotchkiss. "The 
tide is doing the launching now." 

"The tide! What do you mean?" 

"Don't you see the tunnel has been built on a sort of 
staging over the river? When the tide was low early this 
morning, they towed flatboats between the rows of piles 
under the tubes, and now, before very long, the tide should 
be high enough to raise the section oflPthe staging. Suppose 
we go inside while we wait, and look around a bit." 

The ends of the two outer tubes were closed with stout 



1 62 Picky Shovel and Pluck. 

wooden bulkheads, but on the two inner tubes the bulkheads 
ran only half-way up. Mr. Hotchkiss climbed over one of 
these half-bulkheads, and gleefully we tumbled in after him. 

''Say,'' laughed Bill, "we can tell folks that we ^ were in 
the Harlem tunnel before the tunnel was in the Harlem. 
That will set them guessing, won't it?'* 

There was not much to see inside, but we walked to the 
other end and climbed through a door in the bulkhead which 
here covered the whole face of the tube. Just as we got 
there, we felt the tunnel heave as a tug went plowing by 
and sent a swell rolling under the staging. 

"Hurray!" I shouted. "She'll be off in a minute. Let's 
chmb up on top." 

"I imagine your folks will be rather puzzled," remarked 
Mr. Hotchkiss, "when you tell them you took a sail on the 
Harlem River astride a tunnel." 

"Yes; they'll certainly think I've had a brain-storm." 

We cHmbed up a ladder and seated ourselves on a plank 
that lay across the diaphragms. Presently a tugboat made 
fast to us. 

"We're off," shouted Bill, as we began to move slowly 
out into the stream. "This is the queerest launching I ever 
heard of." 

"We are afloat, but we are not launched yet," corrected 
Mr. Hotchkiss. "They must sink the flatboats yet, and pull 
them out from under us." 

" But they won't do that now» will they, with two of the 
tubes open at one end?" 



Floating a Steel Tunnel. 163 

*^0h, yes; the outer tubes are more than big enough to 
keep it afloat. You'll find that the section will float high 
out of water. Suppose we go down and help them scuttle 
the boats.'' 

We ran along a plank walk to the middle of the tunnel 
section, but by the time we got there the men had already 
opened the valves, and the water was rushing in. 

''They don't seem to be in any hurry to get out of the 
boats," I remarked, pointing to a man who was standing 
on the gunwale of one of the flatboats. 

''Oh, no; it will take a quarter of an hour for the boats to 
sink." 

It seemed like an interminable wait. Then we noticed 
a slight list to one side. Suddenly the whole tunnel section 
gave a lurch as the boat on that side sank first, but in another 
moment the others were submerged too, and we floated on 
an even keel, while the tug drew the flatboats out from under 
us. 

"Now is the time for your shouting!" cried Mr. Hotch- 
kiss. "We are really launched this time." 

"What's next?" I asked. 

"Home, I guess; there is nothing more to see here to- 
day. Monday we'll see them sink this section." 



CHAPTER XVI. 
A HANGING OFFICE-BUILDING. 

'^By THE way/^ said Mr. Hotchkiss, as we were on our 
way back to the office, ^'I am working on an odd job just 
now; maybe you would like to stop off and look at it/* 

''Oh, certainly!" we both cried; ''let's see it/* 

"It's a steel building '* 

"A sky-scraper?" I interrupted. 

"Well, a few years ago," replied Mr. Hotchkiss, "vou 
would have thought it was pretty tall, but it is only nineteen 
stories high, and yet it is one of the queerest buildings ever 
put up, or maybe I should say put down.' 

Of course this whetted our curiosity. 

"Now suppose you had this problem put up to you/' 
continued Mr. Hotchkiss, "I wonder what you would do: 
a company erected a twelve-story steel structure alongside 
of an old building it had been occupying for years. Then 
it moved into its new quarters and tore down the old buiding 
with the idea of constructing on the site a twelve-story 
extension to the new building. Before the work on the 
extension was begun, the company bought a piece of property 
on the other side of the new building, and then decided it 
would like to have a ninteen-story structure over the whole 
of its property. But right in the middle of it was this brand- 

164 



A Hanging Office-Building. 165 

new building only twelve stories high. What was to be 
done with it? Its steelwork was designed for but twelve 
stories, and certainly could not support seven more; it 
would be a foolish waste of money to tear down a building 
that had been finished less than two years; and, finally, 
they needed the building for their offices, and could not 
afford to have their business upset by another moving. But 
all this did not worry the owners. They merely said: 
^ Build us a nineteen-story office-building over and around 
our twelve-story one, so that the two will match up per- 
fectly, and look like a single structure, without any hint of 
patchwork, and you mustn't disturb our business while 
you are doing it, either. '^ Now what would you young 
gentlemen have done if you had been faced with such a 
problem as that?'' 

"Oh, I have it!" cried Bill, "I would build a bridge right 
over the old building, and then run the seven stories up 
from that." 

"Yes," answered Mr. Hotchkiss, "that was our first idea, 
but there were two serious objections. We figured out the 
size of the girders necessary to span the old building and 
support the seven stories above, and we found that they 
would have to be over eight feet deep. Architecturally it 
would have looked very bad if we had a band of blank 
wall-space across the front of the building just above the 
twelfth story, to cover the girders. We could not have 
avoided that patched-up appearance that was expressly 
prohibited. Besides that, it would have been very awkward 



1 66 Picky Shovel and Pluck. 

to have such deep girders running across the building. The 
space would have to go to waste or the rooms on that floor 
would have to be formed like long, narrow halls between the 
girders, with no chance for windows except high up near 
the ceiling." 

''I have an idea, but it is rather daring." 

''Let's have it, Jim. Engineers love to deal with daring 
things." 

''If you couldn't bridge across, I suppose you might lift 
the building up and build the seven new stories under it." 

"Well, well," laughed Mr. Hotchkiss, "I should say that 
was daring. A twelve-story steel building lifted seven 
stories in the air! That would be a job and a half. But 
I didn't say we couldn't bridge across." 

"I have it this time," declared Bill. "You needn't 
put just one bridge across, but have a bridge for each 
story." 

"No, you haven't it yet. The span was so great that our 
girders, even for one story, would have to be too deep to 
harmonize with the architecture of the building already com- 
pleted. You need not feel badly if you don't guess the 
solution right away. It took us a long time to solve it, or, 
rather, I shouldn't say 'us,' because the problem was all 
solved before I became connected with the work, and I can 
therefore say, without boasting, that the solution was a very 
clever one indeed. Instead of running the bridge across 
just above the twelfth story, it was placed above the nine- 
teenth story, after the steelwork of the extensions at each 




VIEW OF THE BRIDGE OVER THE OLD BUILDING, SHOWING THE FIRST 

HANGER IN PLACE. 




H 

o 
w 



Q 






o 
S 
w 

H 

K 
U 

5 

H 



U 

Q 
H 



W 



A Hanging Office-Building. 167 

side were carried up that far, and now we are building from 
that bridge down/* 

^^ Building down r 

**Yes; the whole seven-story section will be hung right 
over the old structure. It is the first hanging building I 
ever heard of. Not a bit of weight is going to be supported 
by the old building, and yet, when it is all completed, you 
will never know where the old building stopped and the new 
one began.'* 

When we arrived at the queer building, we found that the 
bridge girders were all in place, and that they were just be- 
ginning to set the *^ hangers.** Those girders were enormous 
things, sixty-two feet long by eight feet deep, and they 
weighed forty tons each. To lift them up into place they 
had a giant crane with a boom seventy-two feet long. Mr. 
Hotchkiss told us that it took twenty-three minutes to hoist 
a girder from the street two hundred and fifty feet to the 
top of the building. Of course, the steel columns of the 
new structure at each side of the old building were made 
extra heavy to support the girders and the seven stories 
they were to carry, 

"Building upside down is very different from common 
construction work,** he said. ** Ordinarily, the columns 
grow lighter as we go up. At the bottom they are very 
heavy, because they have to support not only the floors 
there, but all the rest of the building above as well. Here 
things are reversed. Instead of columns we have hangers, 
and they start heavy and grow lighter as we go down, be- 



1 68 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

cause they have less and less weight to support. In fact, 
they are Hghter than columns because they are under a 
pulling instead of a compressing strain. They don't have 
to be braced to keep them from buckling, and so you will 
notice that in our hangers we have removed most of the side 
plates that are ordinarily put in a column to stiffen it.'* 

It reminded us of old times to be up there among the 
riveters, even though we were only half as high up as when 
we met Mr. Hotchkiss for the first time on the Manhattan 
Syndicate Building. 

*'By the way," I asked, **what has become of Mr. Squires, 
our caisson friend V 

^'He is over in Long Island City now,'* Mr. Hotchkiss in- 
formed us, ^'working on the land end of the new East River 
tunnel. We might all go over and visit him, Monday, after 
we have seen the tunnel section sunk in the Harlem." 

When we reached the site of the Harlem tunnel, on the 
following Monday, the tunnel section had already been 
towed to the spot where it was to be sunk. At each end of 
the section, two large cylinders had been secured across the 
tubes. 

"What do those cylinders mean.f^" I asked. "We didn't 
see them here last week." 

Mr. Hotchkiss explained. "When they sink the section, 
they will want to move it around until they bring it into 
exact alignment with the section already sunk. They are 
going to use a couple of derricks for this purpose, but they 
will hardly be powerful enough to support the weight of the 



A Hanging Office-Building. 



169 



heavy section unaided; with these cyHnders to buoy up the 
tubes, however, the weight on the derricks can be regulated 
very nicely to about five tons each, by filHng the cyHnders 
more or less with water. 

*'But I don't yet understand how they can fit such a 
cumbrous section to the one already laid," said Bill. 




FIG. 10. HOW THE TUNNEL SECTIONS WERE LOCKED TOGETHER. 

"Don't you see those steel masts at each end of the 
tunnel?" asked Mr. Hotchkiss. "They are location masts," 
and carry targets that are carefully centered over the outer 
tubes. Surveyors on shore will sight those targets and signal 
which way the section must be moved to bring it into perfect 
alignment. That done, the section will be moved back until 
a couple of heavy pilot pins just above the two outer tubes 
enter widely flaring "eyes" in the previously sunk section. 



1 70 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

A diver will be down there to drive a wedge through the pin 
so as to lock it fast." (See Fig. lo.) 

"But/" Bill pursued, ''will that make the joint tight 
enough to prevent leakage when they pump the water out 
of the tubes?" 

"You forget that the tubes are to be buried in a mass of 
concrete. That scow," pointing to one alongside the tunnel 
section, ''is the one that they are going to concrete the tunnel 
with. Concrete hardens all right under water, but the 
difficulty is to keep the cement from washing away, so they 
are going to drop the stuff through what they call 'tremie' 
pipes " 

"And keep the ends of the pipes under the surface of the 
concrete," interrupted Bill, "so that the fresh stuff coming 
down through the pipes will be discharged under a protecting 
layer of concrete." 

"How did you know that.^" exclaimed Mr. Hotchkiss, in 
astonishment. 

"Oh, we have been traveling since we saw you last. 
That is the way they built the concrete piers of the Key 
West railroad, out in the sea." 

We had to take a boat over to the tremie scow. They 
had already begun to sink the section, but there w^as little 
to see; it went down so imperceptibly. It was stupid wait- 
ing for that deliberate tunnel section to go under, so we 
turned to the tremie scow. It was quite an elaborate affair 
with its sand, gravel, and cement bins, its elevators and 
conveyors, and its concrete mixers. It was fitted with five 



A Hanging Office-Building. 171 

tremie pipes. Mn Hotchkiss explained how, after the 
section was sunk, the scow would be anchored right across 
the tunnel, and the tremies would be lowered into the 
pockets, one pipe between each pair of tubes, and one at 
each side, making five in alL 

^*It will take them a day to fill each pocket,*' he said, "or 
a month for the whole section. You see, they have to fill 
each pocket before the protecting layer of concrete gets so 
hard that it will not rise above the fresh concrete coming 
through the pipes." 

We hung around for two long hours before that tunnel 
section went under, and then we thought we had had enough. 
As we left, the diver was preparing to go down to lock the 
connecting pins fast. On shore, men were taking observa- 
tions on the targets, and directing the movements of the 
derricks. 

Altogether, it was a very queer way of building a tunnel. 




CHAPTER XVII. 
TRAPPED IN A FLOODED TUNNEL. 



The work on the land end of the East River tubes, where 
Mr. Squires was in charge, was complicated because they 
ran partly through rock and partly through earth. The 
first step was to run a lower heading through the solid rock, 
only one-half of the height of the tunnel. While one set of 
men was pushing on with this heading, others at different 
points along the way broke up through the rock into the 
soft earth above, and dug out an upper heading. This was 
done without a shield and compressed air by carefully 
timbering the work as shown in the drawing (Fig. ii). 
Because the earth was of a clayey nature, it was not so neces- 
sary to guard against being swamped with water. However, 
at one point, during the early part of the work, some water 
had been encountered in one of the tunnels, and it became 
necessary to use compressed air; so a couple of concrete 
bulkheads were built across the tunnels to form an air-lock. 
After the danger had been passed, the doors of the air-lock 
were removed, but the concrete bulkheads were left in place 
for use again, if needed. 

On Sundays no work was done at the tunnels, except 
possibly some repairs to the machinery which could not very 
well be done during the week-days. However, a couple of 

172 



Trapped in a Flooded Tunnel. 



173 



watchmen were supposed to take turns patrolling the work 
to see that everything went well. It was a lonesome job 
for the old men at night, particularly during the small hours, 



UPPER 
;-:S^i::HEADING 




k'OWER 
'HEADING 



FIG. II. RUNNING AN UPPER HEADING THROUGH EARTH, AND A LOWER 

ONE THROUGH ROCK. THE DOTTED LINE INDICATES THE 

OUTLINE OF THE FINISHED TUNNEL. 

when the whole city was asleep. As night after night went 
by with nothing happening, they became rather lax, and 
spent much time chatting, or even napping, when they should 
have been going their rounds. 



174 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

Late one Sunday night (it happened to be the day before 
we saw the sinking of the Harlem River tunnel), these two old 
watchmen had climbed into one of the upper headings to 
smoke and swap yarns. They must have been there for 
hours, when suddenly, about two o'clock in the morning, 
the lights began to flicker strangely. Then they awoke to 
their responsibilities, and hastened down from their pleasant 
retreat to see what was up. To their horror, they found a 
torrent of evil-smelling water pouring through the lower 
heading. It was running so swiftly, and was so deep, that 
they were afraid of being swept off their feet if they at- 
tempted to wade through it. In another moment, the 
lights went out and left them in darkness. Of course they 
carried lanterns, so the darkness was not absolute; but they 
knew that the water must have risen high enough somewhere 
to short-circuit the wires, or else that they had been torn 
apart by a cave-in, which was not any more reassuring. 
All they could do was to withdraw into the upper heading 
and watch the water grow deeper and deeper, until it com- 
pletely flooded the lower heading and began to rise up the 
inclined passage leading to their retreat. There was no 
escape, and with increasing terror they saw the water 
creep toward them, inch by inch. With cruel deliberation 
it rose until it had climbed to the floor of their heading; 
then it halted, but whether this was a temporary pause, or 
whether its attack was spent, they had no way of teUing. 
They were trapped — there was no mistaking that; and a 
small chance they had of ever getting out alive, with forty 



Trapped in a Flooded Tunnel. 175 

feet of earth between them and the surface, and the whole 
city fast asleep. The foul odor of the water was sickening, 
and it lay there within a few feet of them, black and motion- 
less, as if gloating over the prey it was soon to devour. 

Presently, one of the lanterns began to grow dim. A new 
terror beset them. Extravagantly, they had been burning 
two lanterns, instead of saving one until the other was ex- 
hausted. Disgusted at their thoughtlessness, they ex- 
tinguished the good light until the poor one flickered and 
died. Then, with shaking hands, they rehghted the good 
lantern, turning the wick low so as to preserve the oil as 
long as possible. In about an hour's time it, too, began to 
flicker. In the meantime, one of the men had found the 
stump of a candle in his pocket, which kept them going a 
little longer. While the light lasted they made one last 
desperate search, to see if some way of escape might not 
suggest itself. 

Up through the center of the heading ran a pipe. What 
it was for or where it led to, they had not the slightest 
idea, but with the vague hope that it might reach help of 
some kind, they began to hammer upon it. There was no 
response. Nevertheless, they kept on hammering more and 
more desperately as the candle burned lower and lower. 
That wavering Httle flame seemed the most precious thing 
in the world to those poor old men, and they nursed it as 
best they could, building a little wall of clay about it to 
keep the liquid paraffin from running away. But a candle 
cannot keep burning forever, and eventually it, too, died. 



176 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

In the blackness that ensued, the terrified men clung to the 
pipe as their last refuge, and beat frantically upon it. Then 
one of them hacked a few splinters from the timbering of the 
heading and lighted a fire. But that was a most foolish 
thing to do, because there was no way for the smoke to 
escape. For a short while they endured the choking 
fumes, and then kicked the fire into the hissing water. 
That glimmer of light had cost them three matches, and now 
they had only six left to give them a peep at their miserable 
surroundings when the darkness became unbearable. They 
were being severely punished for their laxity — those two 
old men down there in that underground trap. 

About six o'clock in the morning, a man who was walking 
to work through the railroad yards over the tunnel, was 
surprised to hear some mysterious rappings, which seemed 
to come from nowhere in particular. He stopped and 
listened. Most men would never have noticed the noise, 
but he was of an inquisitive turn of mind, and his curiosity 
was aroused. Presently, he noticed a pipe sticking up 
through the ground; he remembered that it had been sunk 
by the surveyors to locate the center of the tunnel. Getting 
down upon his knees, he Hstened intently at the open end 
of the pipe, and, sure enough he heard hammering upon it. 
Picking up a stone, he rapped back. At once the signal 
was answered, and he thought he heard a faint call for help. 
He yelled back a word of encouragement, and ran as fast 
as he could to the shaft, which was twelve or fifteen hundred 
feet away. There he found the trouble. Just beyond the 




THE SPOT WHERE THE WATCHMEN WERE TRAPPED. 




THE LOCK THAT BARRED THE RESCUERS. 







< 
O 

c 

5z; 

C 
w 
n 
IS 



O 
P 

o 
Pi 

< 

c 

> 

o 



c 
/5 



Trapped in a Flooded Tunnel. 177 

shaft, where a large trunk sewer crossed the line of the 
tunnels, there was a great cavity in the ground. A glance 
down the shaft showed it to be nearly full of sewage. Evi- 
dently the sewer-main had burst. 

What was to be done? The tunnel workmen began to 
arrive, and as each one learned that some one was trapped in 
the tunnel, the excitement grew to a high pitch. But no one 
knew what to do until the foreman appeared. He imme- 
diately got in touch with the superintendent by telephone, 
and steps were taken to rescue the unfortunate watchmen. 

We knew nothing of these events as we made our way 
over to see Mr. Squires and his tunnel, about half-past four 
that afternoon. Before we reached the shaft, we noticed a 
large crowd of men out in the railroad yards. 

"Hello, that looks like trouble!'^ exclaimed Mr. Hotchkiss. 

We ran over, expecting to see a railroad accident of some 
sort. 

"What's the matter?" I asked, as we came up to the crowd. 

"Sewer's busted. Tunnel flooded, and a couple of watch- 
men are caught down there," was the laconic reply. 

"Where is Mr. Squires?" demanded Mr. Hotchkiss. 

"Over there," pointing to the thick of the crowd. 

We elbowed our way through to him. 

"Well, Squires, what are you doing here?" 

"Oh, hello, Hotchkiss! I'm in a peck of trouble. The 
tunnel is flooded, and a couple of our men are trapped down 
there. Been trying to get to them since early this morning. 



1 78 Pick J Shovel and Pluck. 

Looks as though we might not be able to unwater the tunnel 
for some time, so we have started to dig down to them/' 

"What is the matter with your pumps?" 

** Pumps! Why, I have five of them going full tilt. But 
it's hopeless to try to pump against the whole ocean. That 
broken sewer-main runs into the East River below tide-level 
just beyond here, and ever since we started this morning, 
the tide has been running in faster than we could pump it out. 
Fortunately, the tide is falling now, and we are getting the 
upper hand. The company is sending over a giant ^sinker' 
(pump), and if we can get that to work in time, we may get 
the men out at low tide this evening. In the meantime, we 
are not going to stop digging until we are sure that the pumps 
will do the trick. The men are trapped right under this 
spot." 

"How in the world did you locate them.^" we asked. 

Then he told us all about the pipe and the knocking that 
had been heard. "They are caught in one of the upper 
headings. The air bottled in there must have kept the water 
from drowning them like rats. We have succeeded in 
pumping the water down below the level of their heading, so 
there will be no danger of their being overwhelmed when 
we dig down and break into their air-chamber. I have sent 
for a boat, and as soon as the water is low enough, we are 
going to send a rescue expedition into the tunnel. They 
must be in pretty sore straits, poor chaps, without a light 
and nothing to eat or drink all day. I have stationed a man 
over there at the 'location' pipe, just to rap on the pipe and 



Trapped in a Flooded Tunnel. 179 

keep their courage up with the knowledge that we are stand- 
ing by them/' 

We watched the men dig for a while. It was hard work, 
because the shaft had to be timbered as they went down, 
and then it was only four feet square, so that only one man 
at a time could do the actual digging. But the work was 
done very energetically, because there were always plenty 
of volunteers ready to jump in as soon as a man grew tired. 

*'ril have to be going back now," said Mr. Squires, *'to 
see if there is any word from that big pump." 

We followed him over to the main shaft, but we hadn't 
gone far when we were halted by a cheer from the crowd 
around the *^ location" pipe. A man ran up to Mr. Squires 
with the information that the prisoners had broken a hole 
in the pipe, and were using it as a speaking-tube. 

Mr. Squires was all action at once. He sent for one of his 
electricians and had him drop an electric light down the pipe. 
Then he despatched another man to the nearest restaurant 
for some sandwiches. The sandwiches were slit in two to 
make them narrow enough to enter the pipe. Then they 
were tied to strings and lowered to the half-famished vic- 
tims. At last, the poor old men had plenty of food and 
light, but, best of all, they could talk with the outside world, 
and learn what was being done for their rescue. 

^^ Suppose the water should get the best of your pumps 
now," queried Bill, "wouldn't the men drown with that pipe 
open to let the air out?" 

''We could soon fix that by plugging up the top of the 



i8o 



Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 



pipe," answered Mr. Squires, ''or, if necessary, we could 
pump some air down to them on a few minutes' notice. I 
do wonder what has happened to that giant 'sinker.' If it 
doesn't come soon, we'll have to wait until morning. The 
tide is low at eight-thirty to-night." 

We hung around a long time, watching the workers and 
waiting for the big pump to arrive, but there was no sign of 
it, and finally we went ofF to supper. Mr. Hotchkiss left us 
and went home, but we were determined to see the thing 
through, and returned as soon as we had had a bite to eat. 
When we got back, whom should we meet but Danny Roach, 
the hero of the caisson fire. 




FIG. 12. DIAGRAM OF THE FLOODED TUNNEL, SHOWING THE 

BROKEN SEWER NEAR THE ELEVATOR SHAFT, AND 

THE RESCUERS ON THEIR WAY. 



Trapped in a Flooded Tunnel. 



i8i 



"Well, well, b'ys!'* he exclaimed, "Oi'm glad to see yez 
ag'in. Ye're always around whin there's throuble, ain't 
ye? But we're goin' to have thim watchmin out, prisintly, 
Oi'm thinkin'. Oi guess nixt toime they'll watch, eh?" 

"Has the big pump arrived?" we asked. 

"Not yit, but the other pumps is doin' foine, and we're 
goin' to have a boatin' party soon." 

"Oh, could we go with you?" 

"Sure and Oi couldn't ask for bether company. If Oi had 
the say av it, ye'd go; but Oi haven't. The boss has made 
me chief navigator av the expedition, but he has picked the 
crew for me. They'll be three av us in the boat, and if we 




:WATER 



k>AIR-LOCK- 



FIG. 13. WHERE THE WATCHMEN WERE TRAPPED, SHOWING THE 

AIR-LOCK THAT BLOCKED THE RESCUERS, ALSO THE 

EMERGENCY SHAFT BEING SUNK. 



1 82 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

was to take you along too, there wouldn't be any room for 
the watchmin/' 

We sought out Mr. Squires and pleaded with him to let at 
least one of us go with the boat, but he would not listen to 
the proposition. 

About nine o'clock, the water had sunk so low in the shaft 
that it was thought possible to reach the watchmen. The 
boat was loaded upon the elevator, and Danny Roach with 
two other men went down into the shaft. We all hung 
around and waited for an interminable period. Little was 
said, and seldom was a sound heard other than the steady 
chug-chug of the pumps. Digging over the spot where the 
men were trapped had stopped. All had gathered around 
the elevator-shaft, anxious to learn of the success of the 
rescue expedition. 

"Danny Roach will get there if it is humanly possible!'' 
declared Mr. Squires. 

But along toward ten o'clock, when we had about decided 
that something serious had happened, the boat returned with 
no watchmen in it. 

"It's no use," said Danny Roach, as he stepped off the 
elevator. "Ye've got to get the wather lower!" 

"Why, what's the matter, Danny .^" cried Mr. Squires. 
"You're all wet!" 

"Oh, it's nothin'. Oi got a bit splashed up." 

"He fell overboard, I guess," remarked one of the men. 

Danny Roach ignored the interruption. "You know 
thim concrete bulkheads down there .^ Well, we got along 



Trapped in a Flooded Tunnel. 183 

all right, at first, though we did have some bother bumpin' 
into the muck cars and timbering But whin we come to 
the first bulkhead, we met throuble face to face. The 
wather was wan fut from the top of the door. We had to 
push the boat down and jam it through, be main force. 
Afther we got into the air-lock, we was stuck for sure, be- 
cause the door in the other bulkhead was all kivered up. 
We saw we couldn't get no farther, and so we turned about 
while we had a chancet to git the boat back." 

^^But you haven't told us yet how you happened to get so 
wet,'' I said. 

"It was a foolish act, but Oi might as well tell ye what 
happened. It seemed too bad to go back whin we was so 
near the min, so Oi thought Oi'd dive under and swim 
to thim." 

"What!" I cried, "under the bulkhead in that sewage?" 

"Sure Oi niver thought av it, thin! But whin Oi come up 
on the other soide, Oi knowed what a fool Oi was. There 
wasn't a speck of light nowheres, and in a minute Oi was so 
turned about Oi couldn't tell which way Oi was headin'. 
It was none too pleasant splashin' about in that wather 
ayther. But Oi felt around, and, afther a whoile, Oi found 
the bulkhead and the door in it. Thin Oi doived back 
through it, and cloimbed back into the boat. 'Tis an un- 
lucky day, this! Whin Oi got back and was scrambHn' 
aboard, wan av our lantherns fell overboard, and, say, Oi'd 
Hke to know the feller what filled the other one. We wasn't 
half-way back whin the blame thing sputtered and wint out; 



184 Picky Shovel and Pluck, 

and there we was with niver a match betwane us. Oh, it 
was some skilful navigatin' we done thin, bumpin' around 
there in the dark ag'in' the muck cars and other things. 
Half the toime we didn't know if we was comin' or goin.* 
Yez kin bet yer swate loife we was glad to ketch a glimmer 
av the loights in the shaft. Nixt toime we go in, Oi'll fill 
the lantherns mesilf, and thin Oi'll nail thim to the boat. 
And say, Misther Squires, if ye'll give me the loan av that 
pocket search-loight av yours, Oi'll go right back and rescue 
thim watchmin now.'' 

"That would be foolish," answered Mr. Squires. "The 
water is creeping up on us again, and we dare not send you 
down again to-night. Besides, what would be the use of 
swimming to the watchmen; you couldn't hire them to dive 
under the bulkhead with you. It will be low tide at about 
nine o'clock to-morrow morning, so you had better go home 
now if you want to lead the next rescue expedition." 

As there did not seem to be anything else to do, Bill and 
I went home, too. Unfortunately, we would have to go to 
work the following morning, and couldn't be around to see 
the next rescue expedition start off. 

Sometime during the night, the big pump arrived, and by 
half-past nine Tuesday morning, the water was so low that 
Danny Roach had no difficulty in navigating his boat 
through the two bulkheads to the two watchmen. Mr. 
Squires told us all about it the next time we saw him. 

"I suppose the watchmen were * fired' for neglecting their 
duties," I remarked. 



Trapped in a Flooded Tunnel. 185 



«i 



Tired!" he exclaimed. ^^Well, I guess not! They are 
the most vigilant watchmen in New York. Thirty-two 
hours in that tunnel gave them a lesson they will not soon 
forget.*' 



CHAPTER XVIII. 
SEALED IN A CHIMNEY FLUE. 

It really wasn't our fault, but the laugh was on us all 
the same, and Dr. McGreggor never got through referring 
to our ^^ youthful incompetency." This is how it all came 
about: 

Uncle Ed was interested in a factory over in Hoboken. It 
happened that the smoke-stack of the factory was badly 
rusted through and needed replacing. Another crying need 
of the factory was a good ventilating system. At first it 
was proposed that a big fan be installed, but Uncle Ed had 
a better idea. A fan would require an engine or a motor to 
drive it, and would be using up power. Uncle Ed was going 
to let the smoke-stack do the pumping at practically no cost. 

Figure 14 shows how he planned to do it. The ventilating 
flues had already been installed in the factory building, 
running to all the different rooms. They terminated in a 
single main where originally it had been planned to install 
the fan. According to Uncle Ed's plan, when the smoke- 
stack was put up, a second stack would be erected around it. 
The inner stack was to be about thirty inches in diameter, 
and the outer one fifty-two inches, leaving a clear space of 
eleven inches all around. 

186 



Sealed in a Chimney Flue. 187 

We caught on at once, when Uncle Ed showed us his plan. 
The air in the space between the two stacks would be heated 
by the hot furnace gases passing up through the inner stack, 
and would expand and rise, so that the outer stack would 
"draw'^ like the inner one. Then it was merely necessary 
to connect the ventilating system of the factory with this 
outer stack. The ventilating main was to be a big flue, six 
feet high by two feet wide. 

Of course the plant would have to be shut down while the 
work was being done. It happened that Decoration Day 
came on Monday, and so the men were given a holiday from 
Friday night until Tuesday morning, and in that brief time, 
the old chimney was to be taken down, the new one put up, 
the outer casing built around it, and the big flue set up from 
that casing to the terminals of the ventilating pipes in the 
building. 

The job was a little out of the ordinary for our oflSce. 
Bill and I had had a good deal to do with the specifications 
and the drawings, so Uncle Ed asked us to oversee the work 
while he took a week-end holiday. He wished to have some 
one on the spot thoroughly familiar with the plans, who 
could settle any questions that might arise, without loss of 
time; for time was very precious. 

Things did not go along as smoothly as had been planned. 
The work was to have been finished by five o'clock Monday, 
but at six there was still a good deal to be done to the venti- 
lating flue. However, only two men were needed for this 
work. The sections of the flue were joined by riveting their 



1 88 



Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 




1§5 







Sealed in a Chimney Flue. 189 

overlapping ends. One man had to go inside with a "dolly" 
which he held against the rivet head while the man outside 
battered down the projecting shank of the rivet. 

After the two men had had their supper, we went out for 
ours. Not anticipating any trouble, we stayed out until 
after eight, expecting that the work would be about done 
by that time. When we returned, we found that a problem 
had arisen, and the men had proceeded to solve it themselves. 
By some mistake, the flue sections were made a little too 
long. However, this was not discovered until the last one 
was about to be riveted in place. The last joint was 
intended to be a butt-joint, that is, the ends of the section 
were faced with angle-iron, and the rivets were to be run 
through the flanges of the angle-iron, as shown in the insert 
in Figure 14. When they found that the last section was 
too long, the thing to do was to rip off the angle-iron and 
set it back the proper distance, and then cut off" the surplus 
material. But this would have taken much time, so, 
instead, they cut both sections just back of the angle-iron, 
and still had material enough to make a sHp joint in place of 
the butt joint. 

The two sections were joined, and they were just beginning 
to rivet them when we returned. The man inside had an 
electric light that was run in through a small door in the outer 
stack. It struck me as rather decent of these men to try 
to save time for which they were getting double pay. 

At last, at a quarter to ten, the last rivet was battered 
down, and we congratulated ourselves on finishing up the 



190 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

work in plenty of time. Then a new difficulty presented 
itself that was of so serious a nature that we all held a 
council of war, and finally decided we must call up Dr. 
McGreggor for help. Bill said he hadn't the nerve. I 
didn't Hke the job myself, but something had to be done at 
once, so I did it. 

''Hello, is this Dr. McGreggor.?" I called. 

"Yes; who's calling?" 

"Why, this is Jim." 

"Yes, yes; what do you want?" 

"I called up to say that we have finished that job." 

"You have, eh?" 

"Yes, it is all riveted up good and tight." 

"Well, that's good " 

I heard the telephone cHck. "Hold on," I cried. "That 

isn't all " But he had already hung up his receiver. I 

rattled the hook violently. 

"Ring him up again," I shouted to Central. 

"Well, who is it?" came the response after a few minutes. 

"It's Jim; I wasn't through." 

" I thought you said the job was finished." 

"Yes; I did, but " 

"But what?" 

"Well, you know the space between the casing and the 
stack is only eleven inches." 

"Yes." 

"And the door in the casing is only twelve inches square." 

"Yes, yes!" 



Sealed in a Chimney Flue. 191 

**And at the other end the largest pipe that connects 
with the flue measures only eight by twelve inches." 

^'What are you getting at?'' 

^'Well, a man could never crawl through any such open- 
ings/' 

"I should say not." 

''Well, there is a man in the flue now, and we cannot 
figure how to get him out." 

"A man! Whatman.?" 

"Why, one of the workmen — ^the fellow that held the 
dolly against the rivet heads," I explained. 

There was a violent explosion at the other end of the line. 
I was glad that three miles of telephone wire separated us. 

''This is about the most stupid thing I ever heard of," 
shouted Dr. McGreggor. "We provided a butt-joint for 
that very purpose — so that the last joint could be riveted 
from the outside." 

"But," I protested, "the last section was too long, and 
had to be cut down, and we thought it would save time to 
cut off* the angle-iron and make a slip joint of it. In fact, 
it was the men who suggested it, and we thought they knew 
what they were about." 

"Look here, Jim; what do you suppose we sent you down 
there for if it was not for just such an emergency. The 
workmen were sent to use their hands, but we sent you 
along to use your heads. There is not a moment to spare. 
Get a piece of paper at once and jot down these orders. — 
Ready .f^ — Go as fast as the cars will carry you to No. — 



192 Pick J Shovel a?id Pluck. 

Halsey Street, Brooklyn, and wake up John Kruger. Tell 
him to go to his shop, and get that two by three door that he 
was making for the Mansville people last week, and sell it 
to us on pain of death. We'll pay him double price for it. 
Tell him you must have it at once, and that he must help 
you^ carry it over to Hoboken, or he'll never get another 
job from me. Now call Bill here! I want to talk to him 
while you are gone.'' 

''Come, Bill, and take yours." I was only too glad to 
abdicate in his favor. Grabbing my hat, I ran out of the 
building and jumped aboard a passing car. 

It is a long ride from Hoboken to Brooklyn at that time 
of night. By the time I had routed out my man and he had 
gone to his shop for the door, it was far past midnight. 

When we reached the factory with the door, I found that 
Bill had carried out his directions. A hole had been cut 
in the flue just large enough for the door, which let the 
imprisoned man out. Quick work was made of riveting the 
door in place, but the east was taking on a rosy hue before 
the last rivet was battered down. At any rate, the job was 
completed before the firemen arrived to start the furnaces. 




H 

O 



<3 

> 
O 
U 

H 
O 




< 
U 

» 

» 
O 

O 

n 

H 

o 
g 

u 

H 

o 



pa 

D 

u 




THE EXPERIMENTAL AERATOR AT THE RYE OUTLET OF THE KENSICO 

RESERVOIR. 




THE BIG AERATOR BASIN AT KENSICO. 



CHAPTER XIX. 
WASHING WATER WITH AIR. 

*'Let me see/' mused Uncle Ed, *'you boys saw a good bit 
of the aqueduct last year, didn't you?" 

"Oh yes,'' Bill spoke up. "We saw all the work under the 
city and the big siphon under the Hudson River at Storm 
King." 

"That's a pretty deep tunnel there." 

"I should say it was," declared Bill, "Eleven hundred 
feet deep." 

"Yes, eleven hundred and fourteen feet," corrected Uncle 
Ed; "that is, below sea level, but the aqueduct west of the 
Hudson before entering the pressure tunnel is about four 
hundred feet above the surface of the river. The shaft 
on the west side of the river is to be closed with a plug of 
concrete; but on the east side they are going to close the 
shaft with a cover that can be taken off if desired, so that 
they can get into the siphon to clean it, or make any 
necessary rapairs. Now you can imagine that if there is 
a difference of four hundred feet in the water level of the 
west side over the east, there will be an enormous upward 
pressure on that cover. Suppose you reckon it up for us. 
Bill, and tell us just about what it will be." 

193 



194 Pick, Shovel a?jd Pluck, 

After a bit of figuring. Bill declared that it would be a 
hundred and seventy three pounds on ever}' square inch. 

**A11 right," said Uncle Ed, "the shaft is about fourteen 
feet in diameter. Now, tell us how much weight that water 
wUl lift." 

It took Bill longer to work out the answer to that problem, 
but finally he arrived at the enormous sum of 3,834,891 
pounds. 

"You see," said Uncle Ed, "it will have to be a pretty 
good sized cap to cover the shaft and take all that thrust. 
The cover has already been made and it is over in the Green- 
ville freight yards now. I thought you might like to take a 
look at it. It is an enormous dome, nearly seventeen feet in 
diameter and sLx feet deep, and there is a ring that the cap 
is to rest on, which measures nearly eighteen feet across, or 
seventeen feet ten inches, to be exact. When you see the big 
dome you will realize that it was no small job casting such an 
enormous chunk of steel; why, it took 138,000 pounds of 
molten steel to fill the mold of the dome completely, and 
after it had stayed in the mold twelve days it was still very 
hot. You know that in casting iron or steel they always 
have to make the mold a trifle larger, to allow for the shrink- 
age of the metal when cooling. They figure about three- 
sixteenths of an inch of shrinkage to the foot. In this case 
the cover shrank three and three-sixteenth inches in dia- 
meter and one and one-eighth inches in height. When it was 
taken out of the mold, it was put into a big boring mill to 
finish oflf the face that is to rest on the curb-ring. Then the 



Washing Water with Air. 1 95 

manhole in the top of the dome had to be machined and the 
holes with which the cap is to be held down had to be drilled. 
It took three months to machine the giant casting, and then 
its weight had been reduced to 92,500 pounds. Altogether 
it took thirteen months to make that dome and the curb- 
ring and to test them thoroughly.'' 

^'That seems Hke a very long time," commented Bill. 

"Yes, but you do not realize what a difficult matter it is 
to make such big castings. Why, it took four months to 
build the mold alone; eleven car loads of sand were used in 
it. You won't find many steel works that would be willing 
to undertake such a big job. A plant in Philadelphia did 
the work, but after the castings were finished, then came 
the job of getting them to New York. They couldn't be 
placed on a flat car, because they would stick out too far on 
each side and would interfere with traffic on adjoining 
tracks You know, an ordinary flat car is only eight feet 
wide. If they should put the castings on end they would 
be too high, because locomotives and trains are seldom 
over fifteen feet high, and many bridges are constructed 
with only a very little clearance above that height. Finally 
a couple of "well cars" were used. They are flat cars with 
a well or opening in the floor, so that the castings could 
stick through. The curb-ring was set on a slant, so as to 
reduce its height as much as possible. The lower edge of the 
ring came within four inches of the rail. A special train 
was made up to haul those two castings, and it had to come 
by a roundabout way to Greenville in order to avoid low 



196 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

bridges, but at one place it was actually necessary to lower 
the tracks, so that the train could pass under a bridge! Then 
at another point, there was such a tight squeeze that the 
castings actually knocked ofF a few bolts from the bridge in 
passing under. It took fourteen hours to make the trip 
from Philadelphia to Greenville.'^ 

*' Fourteen hours,'' ejaculated Bill, "'I could almost walk 
it in that time." 

"Well hardly, that would be over six miles per hour, but 
I must admit that that is very slow traveling for a railroad 
train. You see the castings were so heavy and so tall that 
they made the cars top-heavy and would get to rocking 
dangerously, so that the train had to move slowly and every 
once in a while when the swaying threatend to upset the cars, 
it was necessary to stop until the motion quieted down. 
The big castings arrived at Greenville last night. I think 
that if you go over there now you may find them still on the 
cars and can see how they were set up on an elaborate tim- 
ber framing." 

We did go over and have a look at the monster castings^ 
but it isn't worth while describing how they were mounted 
in the cars; that is shown well enough in the accompanying 
photographs. The big cover was much the harder piece to 
mount, because it was so very heavy and of such an awkward 
shape. The castings were about to be shipped on a lighter 
and towed up the Hudson. A man who had come over to 
inspect them told us about the enormous bolts that were to 
anchor the cover down to the concrete lining of the shaft 



Washing Water with Air. 197 

''They are going to use thirty-six bolts/' he said, "each of 
them four and one-half inches in diameter and fifty feet long! 
When they came to testing them, they could not find a 
machine in the country both long enough and strong enough 
to break one of them. They had to cut one of the bolts 
into short pieces and it took a pull of 1,716,000 pounds to 
break one of the pieces. I guess thirty-six bolts as strong 
as that ought to hold the cap down, eh?" 

''Hold it down!" I exclaimed, "why, to look at that big 
dome you wouldn't think it would be necessary to anchor it. 

While we are on the subject of the aqueduct, I might as 
well tell of two other curious things we saw during the sum- 
mer. One afternoon Bill and I took an excursion boat down 
to Coney Island. As we came to the Narrows, Bill pointed 
out something that looked interesting, but we could not make 
out just what it was. There was a barge with a derrick at 
one end and a queer looking framework that ran down into 
the water. 

"It looks as though they were setting a pipe in that frame." 
I remarked. 

"Yes, that's a pipe they are raising with the derrick," 
agreed Bill. 

"Do you know," I exclaimed, "I believe it's the aqueduct. 
They were to run a pipe line across here from Brooklyn to 
Staten Island. And, see that dredge there, it must be digging 
a trench for the pipe line." 

"It does look hke a pipe Hne," reasoned Bill, "but it can't 
be the aqueduct. They could never make the joints tight 



198 Picky Shovel and Pluck. 

enough if they are going to connect the sections together 
before lowering them into the trench. Why, the water 
wouldn't be fit to drink if any of this dirty, salty bay water 
leaked in. No siree; that can't be the aqueduct. You'll 
find it's a sewer, or something like that." 

It sounded Hke good reasoning, but Bill was wrong. It 
was the aqueduct siphon that was being laid. We made it 
a point to find out all about it. In fact, through Uncle Ed's 
influence, we obtained a permit to board the pipe-laying 
barge and witnessed the operation ourselves. 

The launching cradle or ** skid-way," as they called the 
steel frame we had noticed, curved down under the barge 
and dragged along the bottom in the trench that was ex- 
cavated by the dredge directly in front of the barge. It 
wasn't safe to do the dredging too far in advance of the pipe- 
laying, because the tide, sweeping through the Narrows, was 
Hable to wash the mud right back into the ditch and fill it 
up again. In fact, they were depending upon the tide to do 
this, after the pipe was laid. 

We noticed that there was a sewer outlet along the line of 
the siphon, and one of the first things we asked was, how 
they were going to make the joints tight enough to keep 
sewage water from leaking in and yet expect the pipe line to 
slide down that curved cradle. 

''Leak in!" ejaculated the engineer in charge. ''That's 
not worrying us. What we have to look out for is that the 
water doesn't leak out. There will be a much bigger pres- 
sure inside than out. But we are going to make the joints 



Washing Water with Air. 



199 



water-tight and flexible too. Just watch and you can see 
for yourselves how the joints are made/' 

The pipe sections were three feet in diameter inside and 
twelve feet long. Each was formed with a ''bell" at one end 
and a "'spigot'" at the other, as shown in Fig. 15. The in- 
side of the bell was finished very accurately to a spherical 
surface. 




FIG. 15, THE FLEXIBLE. JOINT USED IN THE SIPHON. 

"If it varies six one-thousandths of an inch from a truly 
spherical surface/' the engineer told us, "'the pipe is thrown 
out." 

We saw them raise one of the pipe sections (it weighed 
nearly four and one-half tons) with the derrick and place 
the spigot end in the bell of the last pipe section connected. 
Then a "snake" or piece of rope was placed around the 
spigot to close the mouth of the bell and molten lead was 
poured in to fill up the space between it and the spigot. 



200 



Picky Shovel and Pluck. 




Washing Water with Air. 201 

"When that lead cools, won^t it shrink and make a leaky 
joint?'' asked Bill 

"Certainly, it will shrink,'' declared the engineer. We'll 
have to add about twenty-two pounds to fill the shrinkage 
spaces, but we'll add that lead cold." 

"Cold, how?" 

"Just watch," he said again. 

All around the bell there were "gib" screws, thirty-two 
altogether. After the molten lead had set, which it did al- 
most instantly, these were unscrewed very quickly with 
pneumatic tools. Then little slugs of soft lead, about an 
inch long, and half an inch in diameter were set in the holes; 
after which the "gib" screws were screwed into the holes 
again, forcing the lead slugs into the mass of soft lead al- 
ready cast, making it fill the bell completely. 

In that way a lead ball was formed on the spigot that fitted 
the bell perfectly, and the pipe was now swung about on the 
lead ball to see that it would turn smoothly. 

The next process was to test the joint. The testing ma- 
chine was a cylinder that fitted freely inside the pipe and 
was lowered from the upper end to the joint. It had wheels 
to roll on the inside surface of the pipe and keep it from stick- 
ing fast anywhere (see Fig. 16). At each end of the cylinder 
there was a rubber gasket and a tube something like an auto- 
mobile tire. When water was admitted into the tires they 
expanded and jammed the gasket against the pipe walls 
making a dam at each side, to keep the water from leaking 
past them. Water was also admitted between these dams 



202 Pickj Shovel and Pluck. 

and the pressure was raised to one hundred pounds per square 
inch, at which pressure it was held for ten minutes. As not a 
drop oozed out of the bell the engineer declared the joint 
perfect. Then the barge was moved slowly forward by- 
hauling in on the forward anchor cables and slacking off 
on the after ones, until the bell end of the pipe section, 
just connected, slid down the skid-way to a convenient 
level for fitting on the next section. It was slow work, 
but far easier than laying the pipe with divers. 

The engineer told us how they had dragged heavy anchors 
of different kinds across the site of the siphon to find out how 
deeply the pipe Hne would have to be buried to render it safe 
from damage by ships' anchors; for the pipe line was to run 
across the place where incoming ships must stop and wait 
for the quarantine doctors to examine their crews and 
passengers. 

The other interesting feature in connection with the aque- 
duct we ran across late in the summer. The city water was 
getting to have a very bad taste. I was almost afraid to 
drink any of it, lest I get typhoid or some other disease. 
However, Uncle Ed assured me that there was nothing dan- 
gerous about the taste, but that it was due to a harmless 
microscopic growth. 

''When the new aqueduct system is in service,'' he said, 
"we won't be bothered with that disagreeable taste. All 
the water is to be washed with air." 

"What do you mean by that?" I queried. 

"They are going to shoot it up into the air and make it 



Washing Water with Air. 203 

fall in a spray. In that way the air will come into contact 
with the water, purify it and carry off the disagreeable 
odors/' 

*'You mean they are going to do that to all the Catskill 
water!" I exclaimed, incredulously. 
*' Certainly, it is all to be aerated.'' 
"It ought to make a tremendous geyser, then.*' 
"Oh, it won't be one geyser, but hundreds of them," he 
explained. "There is to be one large aerating basin at Ash- 
okan to cleanse the water before it enters the aqueduct, then 
there will be another just below the Kensico Lake to cleanse 
the water as it comes from the lake, before letting it into the 
city. You might run up and take a look at it some Saturday 
afternoon. It isn't working, of course, but the basin is all 
finished and piped, and you can imagine it filled with foun- 
tains, sixteen hundred of them, each spouting a whirling jet 
of water fifteen to twenty feet high." 

We went up to see the aerator the very next Saturday. 
It covered an area of three acres. The basin was very 
shallow, because it was not intended to let the water collect 
there. 

Down the center ran a broad slot covered with an iron 
grating through which the water would flow out freely and 
enter the aqueduct on the last lap of its long journey from 
the mountains to the city. We got some idea of how the 
aerator was going to look and smell by walking over to a 
small experimental aerator just below the Rye dyke of the 
lake. This small aerator was made up of a cluster of foun- 



204 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

tains that shot the water ten to twelve feet high. It was a 
beautiful sight, with the rainbows playing in the spray, but 
it was far from being as agreeable to our olfactory organs 
when we stood on the windward side, for then we got in 
concentrated form the tainted odors that the air was wash- 
ing out of the water. 




LAYING THE AQUEDUCT SIPHON ACROSS THE NARROWS. 




m 
o 



o 

w 

H 



CHAPTER XX. 
FIGHTING AN UNDERGROUND STREAM. 

**Look, Jim; what's the crowd there for?'' cried Bill, 
pointing to a knot of men that had collected about half a 
block off. 

''Oh, it's a street fakir, I suppose." 

"No, it isn't," he persisted. ''Why, don't you see, there's 
a fellow climbing up the side of the building. He's trying 
to get into a window up on the fourth floor." 

We ran over to find out what was up, but nobody in the 
crowd seemed to know. 

"Looks like a very bold thing to do right here on Broad- 
way in full daylight," said one of the bystanders. "But 
nobody tried to stop him. I suppose it took them all by 
surprise, just as it did me." 

"Why," I asked, "you don't think he's a burglar, do 
you r 

"Well, I don't know, but you must admit it looks very 
much like housebreaking for a man to chmb up the leader 
of a building and crawl into a fourth story window. If he 
had a right to go in there, why didn't he go in by the front 
door?" 

"And if he hadn't a right in there," I retorted, "why did 
he break in, in broad daylight?" 

205 



2o6 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

**I suppose he depended upon the very audacity of his 
exploit to fool the people, and keep them from interfering." 

"It doesn't look to me as if there was anything to steal in 
that place," commented Bill. ''It's nothing but an empty 
loft." 

''Nevertheless, persisted the man, he can't be in there 
for any good. Somebody ought to notify the police." 

I felt like asking him why he didn't, when it occurred to 
me that the same question could be applied to myself. I 
was like everyone else in the crowd, waiting for the other 
fellow to act. 

But someone had acted. In response to a telephone call, 
four burly poHcemen rushed around the corner and charged 
through the crowd. They had just reached the entrance 
of the building, when the "housebreaker" appeared and 
calmly walked out as if nothing was the matter. 

"That's him," shouted the crowd quite ungrammatically. 
It was easy to recognize the fellow because he was dressed in 
khaki. The four policemen pounced upon him, and dragged 
him forth. I never saw such a queer expression of 
astonishment and apprehension on a man's face before. 
Certainly his was not the face of a criminal. In fact there 
was something strangely famihar about it." 

"Why, it's Jim HalUday," cried Bill, "the transit man we 
used to know down in the East River Tunnel." 

"Sure enough." 

"Hey, Jim HalUday," I called, trying to get near him. 
"What's the matter.?" 



Fighting an Underground Stream, 207 

Jim Halliday turned an appealing look in my direction. 
At the same instant one of the policemen reached through 
the crowd, and seized me roughly by the collar. 

^*You know this man?'' he demanded. 

^^Yes, he is a transit-man, a surveyor." 

*^Come along then," barked the policeman, giving me a 
yank. I started to protest that his prisoner was not a crim- 
inal, and that I had no deahngs with him any way, but he 
only handled me the more roughly." 

As we reached Canal Street, the big traffic pohceman 
stationed at that corner came over to see what was up. 
Jim HalHday knew him and appealed to him, protesting his 
innocence. 

''He's all right," declared the big policeman, "I know him. 
He's on the subway job here." 

''But what's he cHmbing up the side of a building for, 
and breaking into fourth story windows?" protested his 
captors. 

"I've been trying to tell you," gasped HalHday, "but 
you won't listen." 

"Let go of your strangle hold, Mike," demanded the 
traffic man, "and give him a chance to talk." 

Reluctantly the bluecoat released his grip on Halliday's 
collar. At the same time the hand that clutched my collar 
relaxed; while Halliday explained that he had to get to the 
roof of the building to see if the line of the building had been 
disturbed by the subway work. 

"The fourth floor is vacant," said Halliday, "and when 



2o8 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

my rod man went upstairs he found the door locked, so that 
he couldn't go up any further. We had to get up there 
somehow, so I climbed up the leader, got in through the 
window and opend the spring lock from the inside, then 
when I came down for my rod man these cops ^pinched' me." 

*^Well, next time,'' cautioned the traffic policeman, while 
the others melted away, ^^you get the key from the owner 
or his agent. CHmbing leaders ain't safe for any man, and 
besides such athletics are against the law — see?" 

Halliday, still wearing that half frightened, perplexed look, 
ran across the street to the construction office. Bill, who had 
been sticking close to me through it all, but prudently keep- 
ing his mouth shut, made after him. 

^'Come on, Jim," he shouted, ^^ maybe he'll show us what 
they are doing down here." 

We overtook our man at the entrance to the construction 
office. "Oh, I am much obliged to you fellows," he said, 
"for trying to save me. What stupid blockheads those 
cops are. Wouldn't listen to what I had to say, but just 
dragged me off to the station house." 

"But I can't understand just what you were going to do 
on the roof," said Bill. 

"Well, you know we are digging the subway through here, 
and we have to be pretty careful not to undermine any of the 
foundations. We made a careful survey of every building 
before we started work and photographed every crack in 
the walls. Now as the work progresses we keep watching 
things to see that no new cracks develop and every now and 



Fighting an Underground Stream. 209 

then we have to sight from the street to the eaves of the 
buildings to see that they are not sagging or leaning out of 
their original line/' 

*' But why should these buildings sag. Don't their founda- 
tions go down to rock?" 

"'Rock! What, here? Why, there is no rock here. You 
can go down two hundred feet without striking anything but 
sand." 

*'I suppose that is why there are no skyscrapers in this 
part of the city," I suggested. 

"Well, we are going to put up a fairly tall building right 
here. It will be twenty-two stories high." 

"What, on sand foundation?" 

"Yes, on a floating foundation. We are going to put in a 
mass of concrete and steel girders under each column. It is 
going to be quite a job too, because the subway will pass 
under a corner of the building." 

"You mean the building is going to rest on the roof of the 
tunnel?" 

"Oh no. The weight will be taken by the main columns, 
and the building will be bridged right over the subway. 
Would you like to go down into the 'hole' and take a look 
around?" 

We jumped at the suggestion and eagerly followed Halli- 
day through a gate in the wooden fence that enclosed the 
site of the building. A couple of flights of rough wooden 
steps led us down into a perfect forest of timbering. Over- 
head was the planking that supported the traffic of Broadway . 



210 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

''What's all this lumber for?'' Bill inquired. 

''Why, to hold up the street and to keep the sides of the 
cut from caving in on us. This is the upper level here. 
You know the subway is double decked at this point." 

"You mean there will be two sets of tracks, one on top of 
the other.?*" I asked. 

"Yes, the Canal Street line runs into the Broadway line 
here and instead of joining with it on a level the tracks pass 
under and come in between the Broadway tracks." 

"Where is all that water coming from," asked Bill. 

"Springs," said HalHday. "There's a regular under- 
ground river running here all the time. There used to be a 
pond near this place and a stream ran out of it across town 
to the Hudson. When the city was built up as far as this 
the stream was confined between two walls and there was a 
street at each side. They called it a "canal" then, but it 
was little more than an open sewer, because a lot of sewer 
pipes discharged into it. They used to make the prisoners 
come down here and clean it out every once in a while. 
Only the other day one of our men dug out a foot-iron." 

"What's that?" I inquired. 

"A big ball of iron that they used to chain to the foot of a 
prisoner to keep him from running away. This ball had 
an arrow cut in it, which was the mark the British used on 
the foot-irons of their prisoners. Evidently the fellow that 
wore this had been captured in one of the battles of the 
Revolution, and had been set at work on the canal during 
the British occupancy of New York. They have the ball 



Fighting an Underground Stream, 211 

at the office now. We'll take a look at it when we get back, 
and you can see where the chain was broken off from the ball, 
showing that the prisoner had probably freed himself and 
made his escape. 

''Well, after a while," continued HalHday, ''as the city 
grew, the old 'Collect pond,' as it was called, and the "canal" 
too, were filled in and disappeared from view, but the stream 
is still there as we have found out to our sorrow. It is giving 
us a lot of trouble. Why, we are pumping out twenty million 
gallons of water per day." 

"Whew," whistled Bill, "are you, really?" 

"Yes, and it's fine spring water. There's enough to supply 
a large part of New York with drinking water." 

"What do you do with it.?'" 

"Pump it into the sewers and get rid of it as fast as we 
can. We merely want to keep it oiit of our excavation." 

"But what are you going to do when the subway is 
finished," I asked. "You won't have to keep pumping here 
forever, will you ? " 

"Oh! the water won't give us any trouble then. The 
floor and walls and roof of the tunnel are made of concrete 
thoroughly waterproof, and the concrete is made very thick 
in some places so as to keep the subway down." 

"To keep it down?" 

"Yes, if it were not for the extra weight of those masses 
of concrete, the tunnel would be light enough to float. The 
water might hft it, crack it open and then drown it out!" 

We were peering down at the pumps when a drop of muddy 



212 Pick J Shovel and Pluck. 

water splashed on my neck. Another drop hit me in the 
face, as I looked up. Then we heard a peal of thunder. 

"Why, it must be raining," exclaimed Halliday. "You'd 
better get out of here, if you don't want to get your clothes 
spoiled. It's awfully dirty when the mud and water from 
the street overhead drip through the cracks in the planking." 

We made a hasty retreat up the steps. 

"Good gracious, Jim," cried Bill, "it is raining cats and 
dogs. How shall we ever get back?" 

"Yes, and it's ten minutes past one," I exclaimed, looking 
at my watch. "Dr. McGreggor will have it in for us." 

The sky had suddenly grown as black as night and water 
was pouring down in torrents, while lightning was flashing 
all around us. 

"There's no use trying to get back in this storm," declared 
Halliday, "you might as well phone to the office that you are 
marooned. You may use our phone." 

Bill undertook that disagreeable task and then we hung 
around the office, waiting for the storm to stop. In the 
meantime Halliday, who was also kept away from his work 
by the storm, sat down in the office and began to tell us all 
about the subway: 

"Its going to be a wonderful transportation system, when 
it's all done. There will be track enough in it to reach from 
New York almost to Indianapolis, that is, counting in the 
elevated lines, too, because they belong to the same com- 
panies. You will be able to travel all day right here in New 
York City, without going over the same track twice. 



Fighting an Underground Stream. 2It^ 

''All for five cents?" asked Bill. 

"Oh, no; there are two separate companies. But I'll tell 
you what you can do; you will be able to ride on one line all 
the way from Flushing to Coney Island for five cents, and 
that is twenty-one miles, and on the other line you will be 
able to ride from White Plains Road at the northern border 
of the city, twenty-six miles to New Lots Avenue, Brooklyn, 
all for five cents. You would have to pay seventy-five 
cents to go that far in a steam train. 

''By the way, talking about the old canal, we uncovered 
the foundation of an old bridge here, the other day. It's 
down there now. Would you like to see it?" 

"Sure," I exclaimed, "but wouldn't vve get all covered 
with mud?" 

"Oh, I can fix that up all right; there are some extra boots 
and slickers here you could put on." 

Fitted out in oilskins and boots we descended into the 
"hole" again. It certainly was disagreeable down there. 
There was a constant shower of mud — the scourings of the 
street above. Through that disgusting rain we made our 
way down the slippery steps to the lower level where Halli- 
day pointed out a cluster of piles. 

"Are you sure they belong to Revolutionary times?" I 
asked. 

"I don't know just how old they are," repHed HalHday, 
" but you can see that it is an abutment for a bridge. See the 
'batter' piles," pointing to some of the piles which were 
slanted back to take the thrust of the bridge. 



214 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

" But the piles don't look very old," I objected, "why, they 
haven't rotted a bit." 

"That doesn't signify anything. Wood does not rot under 
water. If you keep wood wet all the time it will last 
centuries. These piles may be much older than the Revolu- 
tion. There has been nothing but wet sand around them 
since they were driven into the ground." 

"Do you see that pipe up there?" asked Halliday, pointing 
through the maze of timbering. "That's a high pressure 
line." 

"Air.?" I asked. 

"No, water. I mean the high pressure fire line. You 
know there is a special high pressure service in this city that 
can be turned on whenever there is a serious fire. They 
pump water out of the river with powerful pumps that 
deliver the water under pressure enough to send it up to the 
top of a sixteen-story building. It takes three men to hold 
a fire nozzle when the high pressure is on. The hose wriggles 
and squirms like a big snake. It's all the men can do to 
handle it. Why, one of the men told me that he blew out 
a small blaze, once, with a high pressure hose, just as you 
would blow out a candle. Of course, the line was full of air 
to start with, and then when the water was turned on, all 
that air was driven out in a blast that simply blew out the 
fire. Last Saturday afternoon they turned on the pressure 
for a test, and do you see that joint there.? Well, it parted 
about an inch, and the water streamed out in all directions 
in a big sheet. Why, it shot through the cracks in the street 



Fighting an Underground Stream. 215 

planking and splashed up against the buildings as high as the 
third story windows. It's good it was late in the afternoon, 
when there is not much traffic overhead, or there would have 
been a panic/' 

^^What are those pipes up over the street?" I asked, 
referring to the pipe Hues that ran on a trestle over the 
sidewalk along the subway work. ^^ Somebody told me that 
they are water pipes." 

^'Oh, no, they are the gas mains," explained Halliday. 
*'The local service pipes run along the curb of the streets, 
but we put the mains up on stilts where they can do us no 
harm. We are dreadfully afraid of gas in tunnel work. You 
see, in undermining a street we might strain the joints of 
one of these mains, and the gas would leak out into our 
excavations and collect in a pocket. If it was not discovered 
in time, it might suffocate or poison some of our workmen, 
or worse still, if, by any chance the gas were exploded, just 
think of the damage it would do to the street traffic over- 
head, say nothing of our own work. Oh, no, we don't care 
to have anything to do with gas. Our troubles with water 
are bad enough. \ 

*'By the way," continued HaUiday, ** talking of gas mains, 
a very clever job was done up in the Bronx on one of the 
subway sections. The contractor found that he had to 
move about a thousand feet of gas main from one side of 
the street to the other, but as that furnished practically the 
only gas supply for a large community, he couldn't de- 
Hberately turn off the gas and move the pipe line at his 



2i6 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

leisure, nor did he want to go to the expense of laying a new 
pipe line. Fortunately the people in that section, who are 
mostly Jews, don't use much gas except on Fridays, Satur- 
days and Sundays. As there happened to be a small pipe 
line that would take care of their needs during the daylight 
hours of an ordinary week day, the contractor figured out a 
quick way of moving that pipe line and connecting it up 
again. He picked out Thursday morning for the job. The 
street had already been excavated down to the level of the gas 
main, the new bed had been prepared to receive the pipe line, 
and timbershad been laid across from the old bed to thenew." 

'^Do you mean," interrupted Bill, "that the whole street 
was excavated?" 

"Yes." 

''But what about the traffic?" 

"Oh, up there there is practically no traffic. The street 
was simply closed while the work was under way. As I was 
saying, he had everything ready with a track along the side 
of the excavation and four dinkey engines on it. Then 
cables were stretched across the street, running under the 
gas main and back through pulley blocks to the dinkey 
engines; a section of the gas main, four hundred feet long, 
was cut; and, at a given signal, all the engines moved 
as one down the track, rolling the big iron main over the 
timbers to the opposite side of the street. It didn't take 
but a minute to! do the job. Then the engines were backed 
up and went through the same performance with the six- 
hundred-foot section." 



Fighting an Underground Stream. 217 

^*It seems simple enough," was our comment. 

**Yes, after you know how to do it/' 

All this time the rain was coming down in torrents. The 
street above must have been washed pretty clean, for the 
shower in the tunnel had changed from thick mud to com- 
paratively clean water, but the timbering was slimy and 
slippery. Water was running in rivulets down the floor of 
the tunnel, toward the sumps where the powerful electric 
pumps sucked it up and threw it into the big sewers. We 
were standing in the stream watching the work of one of the 
pumps when there was a shout from the workmen. Before 
we realized what was up, the stream about our boots swelled 
into a torrent that swept the footing out from under us. So 
unexpected was this onslaught that we were all dragged 
under. I crashed into a post with such force that it stunned 
me for an instant. Bill and Halliday were washed ten or 
twenty feet past me before they could check themselves by 
grabbing hold of the timbering. 

Then came a mad scramble to get out. We had no time 
to make for the steps. There was not a moment to spare, 
for the water came rushing in and filling the tunnel steadily. 
We tried to climb up the posts and reach the upper level 
before the water did, hoping that then we might run down 
the planking to the exit. It seemed as if we could never get 
up the slippery columns with our heavy boots and slickers 
on. The water was rising faster now, for it had drowned 
out the electric pumps, and thousands of gallons from the 
underground river were added to the water which came 



21 8 Pick, Shovel and Pluck, 

pouring down the subway. I recalled the two old watch- 
men who had been trapped in the Long Island tunnel, and 
wondered whether we would be caught in the same way. 
The thought gave me the horrors. 

I don't know that we would ever have got out had not 
HaUiday discovered a place where the cross-bracing gave us 
a good foothold. We had barely reached the trackway over- 
head when the lights went out. Fortunately we were not in 
complete darkness, for some light filtered through the cracks 
and chinks from the street above, so that we could make 
things out as in a dim twilight. 

We were hurrying along the plank walk laid between the 
tracks to an exit that was nearer than the one through which 
we had entered the tunnel, but the water was rising rapidly 
over the track, and, as we splashed on, we missed our footing 
more than once where there was a break in the plank walk 
or where we had to scramble around a stalled car. Once I 
stepped out on open water and would have gone under com- 
pletely had not Bill caught me. Bill also had a fall or two, 
and even Halliday stumbled and fell across the track. It 
was lucky we didn't have far to go or we would never have 
escaped. We reached the exit and raced up the ladder 
just as a crowd of yelling and jabbering Italian workmen 
rushed up. 

''Where did all the water come from?" I gasped, as soon 
as we had reached safety. 

"Blest if I know," repHed Halliday. 

The storm was beginning to abate, but the water still 




WE REACHED THE EXIT AND RACED UP THE LADDER 

See page 218 




THE CHUTE SYSTEM OF POURING CONCRETE, 



% 1 1 


Bi 


^^^^ #. ' ^ ^ ^ 


^^^^ 1 


, » i-v ' - ' 




i 


iiPlili^'' 


-j>^m^:- -~ .<^*^r— ^■*'- 


„■."". _.. 1 



CONCRETE LEGS OF THE VIADUCT LEADING TO THE GREAT ARCH. 



Fighting an Underground Stream. 219 

rose steadily in the subway until it was not far from the 
street level. A warning was sent out to stop the street cars 
and all heavy traffic for fear that the water might have un- 
dermined the columns that supported the street planking 
and a serious cave-in might result. We learned that a large 
storm sewer had burst about five blocks up the street, and 
all the rainwater for blocks around was draining into the 
subway. 

We were drenched to the skin, so we 'phoned our pre- 
dicament to Dr. McGreggor, and acting on his advice went 
home for a change of clothing. 



CHAPTER XXL 
THE GREATEST STEEL ARCH IN THE WORLD. 

One day in the middle of the summer, Bill and I were at 
luncheon, when who should walk into the restaurant and sit 
down beside us but Mr. Hotchkiss. 

"Why, hello, boys," he cried. "Where have you been 
keeping yourselves? I haven't seen you since we visited 
Squire's tunnel." 

"We are working pretty hard these days," I replied. "We 
haven't the easy time that we had last year. Dr. McGreggor 
believes in keeping our noses to the grindstone." 

"But there are lots of interesting jobs to be seen. What 
does your Uncle Ed think about it?" 

"He has been away so much of the time that we have been 
left almost entirely in Dr. McGreggor's care." 

"But there are some things that you really must see. 
For instance, there is a railroad now under construction, 
only a few miles away, that is well worth investigating. 
More than a third of the line is a bridge." 

"Oh, you mean an elevated railroad," exclaimed Bill. 

"No I don't. It will be an elevated line, true enough, 
from twenty to a hundred andthirty-five feet high, but it 
isn't meant for city traffic. It is to be a regulation, four- 
track railroad for freight and through passenger trains." 

220 



The Greatest Steel Arch in the World. 221 

We were puzzled. *^ But why do they need so much bridge 
work?*' I asked. *^ There is no great swamp around here, is 
there ? Or does it run out over the ocean, like the Key West 
Railroad?" 

"Wait a minute, now. You talk as though the bridge 
might be a hundred miles long, whereas the whole railroad 
has an extent of only ten miles. But what it misses in length 
it will make up in traffic; for it is to connect two of the busiest 
railroads in the world. Did you ever stop to think how New 
York City blocks traffic? It has a wonderful harbor. Deep 
water all around, right up to the shore. But that very harbor 
is an obstacle to transportation. You can travel by rail all 
the way up the coast, from the tip end of Florida, but when 
you strike New York, your journey is interrupted. ^ You 
cannot jgO' on directly to Boston without '' 

'"But,'* 1 broke in, "there is an express that runs from 
Washington to Boston." 

"Yes, but the train has to be ferried across from Jersey 
City, around the battery, and up the East River to Harlem, 
before it can proceed on its way to the New England States. 
Recently, a railroad has dodged under the obstructing 
North River, coming into New York by tunnel, and the 
tunnel has been extended under the East River to Long 
Island. Now a railroad is being built from Long Island 
back across the East River, to connect with a line running on 
up to New England. A few years hence, the New England 
traveler on his way to the South, will enter New York on 
the surface level, cHmb far above the surrounding housetops, 



222 



Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 




H 



8 



n 

n 

a' 
w 

H 

o 

< 

PL. 
CO 

W 
H 



o 
p 
S 

u 

H 

> 

< 

O 



2 



The Greatest Steel Arch in the World. 22^ 

skip across the river to Long Island, using Ward's Island and 
Randall's Island as stepping-stones, and then he will dive 
under ground, crossing the same river in a tunnel that will 
lead him through Manhattan, beneath the North River, and 
on to the other side of the Jersey heights. It will be a 
splendid ride over that bridge, three miles and a half of it, 
and high enough to give a panoramic view of the whole city." 

"Seems fooHsh to me,'' said Bill, bluntly. "What is the 
use of crossing over the East River, only to cross back 
again?" 

"Well, It isn't the most direct connection possible," ad- 
mitted Mr. Hotchkiss. "But you must remember that 
valuable real estate may be a more serious obstacle than a 
river or two. By running the connecting railroad through 
a sparsely built section, the right of way could be purchased 
at comparatively little cost." 

"But why cross the river on a bridge? Why not use a 
tunnel for both crossings?" 

"Simply because it would take four tunnels to equal tne 
capacit}^ of this one bridge, and they would cost twice as 
much as the bridge. Then, too, it is much pleasanter riding 
out in the open than down in a stuffy tunnel. That span 
across Hell Gate will be a wonder. It will be the largest of its 
kind in the world. Quite different from the other East River 
bridges. Most of them, you know, are suspension-bridges; 
the Queensborough bridge is a cantilever, but this will be a 
steel arch with a span of a thousand feet! Oh, you will have 
to go up with me and see it." 



224 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

Most emphatically we assured him that we would be only 
too glad to go, if only he would plead our cause with Dr. 
McGreggor. 

*'Just you leave that with me/' advised Mr. Hotchkiss. 

We did; and as a result, the following Monday found us 
on our way to Astoria, the Long Island end of the bridge. 

Long before we reached the bridge, we saw the tall white 
piers that were to constitute the legs of the viaduct leading 
to the great steel arch. 

''It looks something like a suspension-bridge,*' I remarked, 
noting a couple of slender, lattice steel towers with a system 
of cables running out from them. . 

"Don't you know what that is?" asked Mr. Hotchkiss, in 
surprise. "It is the chute system of pouring the concrete 
into the molds." 

It had not occured to me, but of course there would be 
considerable difficulty in hauling the concrete up to the top 
of the piers, particularly when they were nearing their full 
height of well over a hundred feet, and there would be a great 
deal of concrete to pour. Mr. Hotchkiss said he had read 
somewhere that there would be seven hundred thousand 
barrels of cement in the whole bridge. "And that," he 
explained, "is enough to fill a freight train thirty miles long, 
while the sand and stone to go with the cement would fill 
another train ninety miles long." 

To save time in delivering such an enormous quantity of 
concrete, the chute system was used. A tower was erected 
near the site of one of the piers. Chutes lead from the tower 



The Greatest Steel Arch in the World, 22$ 

to that pier, and also to the pier at each side of it. The con- 
crete was mixed on the ground, and then elevated to the top 
of the tower and delivered, as needed, to the different piers. 
As the piers grew, the chutes had to be raised higher and 
higher on the tower to give them the proper incHne. This 
meant that the towers had to be very tall. One we saw was 
234 feet high, as high as a twenty-story building. 

Naturally, our chief interest was in the work on the 
towers for the great steel arch. A letter from Dr. McGreggor 
introduced us to the engineer in charge of the work. 

"I see," remarked Mr. Hotchkiss, "that you have the 
tower on this side of the river well ahead of the one on 
Ward's Island." 

"Oh, yes, far ahead," replied the engineer. "We have had 
no end of trouble over there. The rock on this side is sound 
enough, but over there, after we got down to bed-rock, we 
came across a deep fissure that ran square across the site of 
our foundation." 

"But I thought they always took borings of the founda- 
tions before they decided where they were going to put 
them," said Bill. 

"That is very true, but after all it is bUnd work. The 
borings show rock here and there at certain depths, and then 
on your map you connect up the points and make up a 
probable profile of the rock. You have to take a chance on 
what lies between those borings. In this case, before the 
right of way was bought, borings were made that indicated 
rock quite near the surface. So the property was purchased, 



226 Pickj Shovel and Pluck. 

and then we were given the job of putting the bridge across. 
You know this place is called ^^Hell Gate," and it always was 
a treacherous spot. The channel here used to be obsturcted 
with reefs that wrecked hundreds of vessels. Tides coming 
down the sound and up from New York Bay meet here in 
battle twice a day, and when the reefs were here to add to the 
swirling eddies and vicious currents, the navigator had all he 
could do to get through. Finally, the rock was undermined 
with nearly four miles of tunnel, and then was blown up by 
a blast of three million pounds of nitroglycerin. That put 
an end to the treachery in the channel, but it fell to our lot 
to discover further treachery in the rocks under the shore. 
We knew quite a bit about the geology of this locaHty, and 
suspected that the rock was not quite so favorable for a 
foundation as the borings seemed to indicate; so we used 
core drills. They work something like an apple corer, you 
know, and cut out a core of earth and rock that enables you 
to see just what the drill has been through. The cores we got 
showed us that what had been thought solid bed-rock was 
merely boulders carried down by the glaciers. 

"'The glaciers!" I exclaimed. 

"Yes; you know this whole region was covered with ice 
once, just as Greenland is now, and glaciers ground their 
way over the land, tearing away all obstructions, and carry- 
ing off masses of clay and rocks on their backs, exactly Hke 
the Greenland glaciers of to day. Geologists can show you 
the worn-down mountain range in Canada from which the 
boulders around here were hauled by the ice. 



The Greatest Steel Arch in the World. 227 

"We found bed-rock," he continued, "from forty-four to 
seventy-six feet under the surface, but it was very irregular. 
We suspected that there was a fissure somewhere around 
here, because one was found when the gas tunnel was bored 
under the river just above here, and it had a trend in this 
direction. But our drills did not happen to strike it, and we 
hoped that the foundation would avoid it. The foundation 
measures 125 by 140 feet. Because the rock is so 
irregular, we are sinking the foundation in twenty-one 
caissons instead of one big one. Where the direct thrust 
of the bridge trusses is to come, we shall have two sohd 
walls of reinforced concrete built with rectangular caissons 
keyed together (see Fig. 18); while between these walls 
and at each side are rows of cylindrical caissons eighteen 
feet in diameter. Over all will be a slab of concrete 
eighteen feet thick. One of the cylindrical caissons struck 
the edge of the fissure, and so straight were the walls of 
this underground cafion, that we carried the caisson down 
with one side through rock and the other through clay to a 
depth of 109 feet without finding the bottom. Then we 
flared the bottom of the shaft, to give the column as broad a 
footing as possible, and let it go at that." 

"You couldn't do that under the trusses, though," re- 
marked Mr. Hotchkiss. 

"Oh, no," answered the engineer. "The fissure was so 
wide in one place that we could find no rock at all under one of 
the middle caissons, so we built an arch across the chasm." 

"An arch?" 



228 



Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 



''Yes; it does sound rather remarkable. It has never been 
done before, so far as I know; but we are building a forty- 
five-foot arch across that chasm, seventy-five feet under- 
ground. And under the next wall, where the fissure is nar- 
rower and happens to come at the joint between two caissons 
we are bridging the gap with a cantilever." 



NORTH 
TRUSS 



SOUTH 
TRU55 




5HADtD PORTION REPRESENT!^ ROCK 



FIG. l8. LAYOUT OF THE CAISSONS OF THE WARD's ISLAND TOWER, 
SHOWING, ALSO; THE FISSURE IN THE ROCK. 



The Greatest Steel Arch in the World, 22<^ 

"Do you mean you are putting a steel bridge across down 
there?'' asked Bill. 

"Oh, no; a concrete cantilever. The concrete is built out 
from the rock Hke a shelf." 

"Say, could we go down and see the work?" I begged. 

The engineer laughed. "Do you know," he said, "I sent 
a green hand down the other day — a negro — and he was so 
scared, that he fell upon his knees and began to pray." 

"Why, what is there to be afraid of?" I asked. 

"The air-pressure on the ears, the hollow noises, the un- 
canny sensation of being buried alive." 

"But we have been all through that. We are old-timers." 

"That's right," attested Mr. Hotchkiss; "they know all 
about pneumatic work. But," he added, teasingly, "their 
first experience in a caisson gave them a scare. They 
thought that their time had come, too — fatal paralysis, you 
know — ^when they found they couldn't whistle." 

"Yes," I said, "they played that practical joke on us. 
But can't we go down and see that underground bridge?" 

"I am sorry to say that there is nothing for you to see 
now," replied the engineer. "The arch is already laid, and 
we are filling in above it." 

"It was lucky that you had clay to work in," remarked 
Mr. Hotchkiss. 

''Yes," agreed the engineer; ''if it had been quicksand, it 
would have been no simple matter to have laid the arch." 
Then he went on to explain how the steel work was to be set 
up, and gave us a good idea of how the finished bridge was to 



230 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

look. The main towers of the bridge were to be enormous 
structures rising to a height of two hundred and forty-four 
feet above the river, and the four-track roadway was going 
to pass through them at a level of a hundred and thirty-five 
feet above mean high water, so that ships could safely pass 
under without lowering their masts. 




FIG. 19. SECTION OF THE LOWER CHORD AT Ay FIG. 20. 

*^That steel arch,'' said the engineer, ''will be the most 
wonderful structure of its kind in the world. The distance 
between the towers will be a thousand and seventeen feet. 
It is hard to get an adequate conception of its size. When 
you go back to your office this afternoon, you will pass the 
tallest building in the world. Imagine it fallen over on its 



The Greatest Steel Arch in the World, 231 

side across Hell Gate, and then realize that it will not 
reach more than three-quarters of the way across the span 
of this bridge. Then stand under the spire of Trinity 
Church, and remember that this arch will overtop that 
spire by twenty feet. In fact, there are many so-called 
skyscrapers that cannot look over the top of this steel arch. 
It is going to be made up of the heaviest steel members ever 
used in bridge work. The trusses will be a hundred and 
forty feet deep at the towers, and will taper to forty feet at 
the crown, and the lower chords of those trusses will be so 
big that you could drive a loaded hay-wagon through them 
if they were cleared of web plates! It will be a big job 
erecting them. The heaviest chord sections will weigh a 
hundred and eighty-two tons each." 

^'What I can't make out," said Bill, ^Ss how the arch is 
to be erected. Won't you have to build some sort of false 
work to support the trusses until the arch is completed?" 

''This is to be an arch, of course," said the engineer, 
''when it is completed, but while it is being erected, it will 
be put up as a cantilever." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Simply this: after the towers have been built up to the 
road level, work will begin on the steel arch. First a post 
will be set up a short distance back from the tower, and an- 
chored down with steel members that will later be used in 
the viaduct. Ties will run from this post to the top chord of 
the arch. After the bridge has been built out so far that its 
overhang is liable to tear up the anchorage, a second post 



232 



Pick, Shovel and Pluck, 



will be set up on the tower itself (see Fig. 20), and attach- 
ment will be made farther out on the trusses. This will 
suffice to keep the trusses from falling over into the river, 
until they meet at the center, w^hen, of course, they cannot 
fall without pushing the towers apart." 

^^I should think there would be an awful strain on the 
'ties,' as you call them," I remarked. 

''Oh, yes; there will be a truly colossal strain. Something 
like 76,000,000 pounds. That is more than 1,520 locomo- 




FIG. 20. METHOD OF ERECTING THE HELL GATE ARCH 

tives could pull; double that for the two arch ribs together." 
^'I can understand," said Bill, "how they can figure out 
straight work, like the columns and girders of a building, 
and punch out the rivet holes in the shop beforehand, but 
how in the world are they going to do it for a bridge that 
curves and tapers as this one must?" 

**Why, they are going to assemble the whole bridge at the 
factory, but it will be built on its side on the ground. It 
will be laid off to the exact curve, and the rivet holes will 
all be drilled so that the job of assembling it here will be 



The Greatest Steel Arch in the World, 233 

simple. No fitting will have to be done here except at the 
crown, after the two halves of the arch have come together. 
After the arch is completed, hangers will be let down from 
it to carry the floor of the bridge. This will be a steel trough 
ninety-three feet wide. The trough will be filled with stone 
ballast. On this ballast the tracks will be laid, just as they 
are on the soHd ground." 

Before leaving, we climbed 135 feet up one of the lattice 
steel towers, so as to get some idea of what passengers would 
see when crossing the bridge. The view was superb, and we 
realized what a magnificent approach to the great city this 
enormous viaduct and bridge would provide. 



CHAPTER XXII. 
WRECKING A SKYSCRAPER. 

^^Huxtra!" shouted a breathless newsboy, running up to 
us as we were going to the office one morning. ^'Huxtry, 
huxtra! Turrible loss of life," he yelled, waving a paper in 
our faces. 

We caught sight of the heading, BUILDING COL- 
LAPSED, in type three inches high. Bill seized the extra 
and produced the required penny. 

'*I thought so," he grunted, after hastily scanning the 
paragraph. "No lives lost; but it might have been a serious 
accident, just the same." 

The paper told of an old brick building that had fallen 
about five o'clock that morning — that is, the front wall had 
fallen. There were only a few people who slept in the build- 
ing, as most of it was used for business purposes, and they 
had all been accounted for. Fortunately, the accident had 
occurred when there was probably no one on the street, al- 
though they were excavating the ruins to make sure that 
there were no victims buried in them. The story was very 
vividly written, and told of the harrowing experiences of 
one of the tenants who had been startled out of a sound 
sleep, by the ripping of the lath and plaster and the crash of 
falling masonry, to find his room torn open to the morning 

234 



Wrecking a Skyscraper. 235 

twilight and his bed sHding down the sagging floor after 
the wall. 

"'I wish/' exclaimed Bill, ''it had been that old ramshackle 
pile of bricks across the way from us!" 

The windows of our drafting-room opened on a court. On 
either side we were hemmed in by extensions of our own 
office-building, while directly opposite was this dilapidated 
loft building, and, as we were on the fifth floor, it eff^ectually 
cut oflF our view. 

''You know," I said, "I shouldn't be surprised if it did fall 
soon. That crack in the wall seems to be growing larger." 

Whether they had been spurred on by the accident I do 
not know, but that very afternoon a couple of men in uni- 
form appeared on the scene, tapped on the walls, measured 
the fissure, looked down into the court, and shook their heads 
gravely. It would have been a serious matter if that building 
had fallen, for three stories below us was a skylight roof 
forming the bottom of the court and covering a large office 
in which there were about a hundred typists. There would 
have been an awful catastrophe had the old building crashed 
through the skylight during working hours. 

The next day we learned from our office boy that the 
building department had condemned the old eyesore, and it 
would have to come down immediately. The tenants lost 
no time in getting out, and in a couple of days a gang of 
house wreckers showed up. 

I am afraid we did very little drafting while that building 
was being dismantled; we were so interested in the work. 



236 Pickj Shovel and Pluck. 

First, all the plumbing and lighting fixtures were ripped out, 
and then the doors and windows were removed. We sup- 
posed that they would begin tearing off the roof next, but 
instead they stopped work altogether on the upper stories. 

^'I wonder what they can be doing now," remarked Bill. 

"They seem to be working down on the ground floor, judg- 
ing from the sound." 

"We'll have to go around at lunch time and see," I 
suggested. 

That noon we snatched a hasty bite, then rushed around 
the block to interview the house wreckers. The men were 
still at their lunch pails, and Bill soon had one of them en- 
gaged in conversation — "Goat" Anderson they called him, 
because he was as spry and sure-footed in ticklish places as 
a mountain-goat. He was a very intelligent fellow, and 
told us many interesting things about house wrecking. 

"When you put up a house," he said, "you begin at the 
foundations an' build up, don't you.^ An' you'd natcherly 
think that when you tear down a house, you'd begin at the 
top an' work down, wouldn't you?" 

"Why, of course," we answered. 

"Well, you wouldn't; you'd work from the bottom up." 

"'From the bottom up!'" we quoted in astonishment. 
"Why, how is that?" 

"It's much easier," he declared. "In fact, you couldn't 
go about it in no other way. Just s'pose you started on the 
top floor, all the lath an' plaster an' such like would drop to 
the next story an' bury the floor so there wouldn't be no 



Wrecking a Skyscraper. 237 

chance to get up floor-boards an' rip them open. But s'pose 
you did get them boards up, by the time you'd worked 
down to the next floor below it would be hurried under twice 
as much rubbish. It would get worse the farther down you 
went. Each floor would be piled up with the rubbish from 
all the stories above; an' so, at last, when you got to the 
ground floor, you would find it choked up as high as the 
ceilin'. So, you see, you would have to do the same work 
over an' over again. Now, what we do is to pull up the floor- 
boards on the ground floor first; an' then we tear out the 
partition walls an' rip oflF all the lath an' plaster an' let all 
the rubbish fall into the cellar. Next we go up to the second 
floor, rip that out, an' let all that stuff' drop straight into the 
cellar; an' so on to the top, lettin' the rubbish from each 
floor fall clear to the cellar every time, without blockin' up 
any other floors on the way." 

"That sounds like common sense," I commented. 

"Sure it's common sense! You'll find the wreckin' busi- 
ness takes brains. It ain't just smashing a house down with 
a sledge-hammer. Takes four years to make a good *bar 
man.'" 

"A 'bar man'?" I queried. 

"Yes; that's what they call us, because we use these here 
* pinch-bars,'" he explained, holding up one of the long steel 
bars with curved end and flattened point, used in prying 
things loose. 

"But," interrupted Bill, who could never be led oflF the 
subject, "after you have cleared off" all the floors, you still 



238 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

have the walls to take down, don't you, and you must begin 
at the top with them?" 

"Sure!'' was the answer. "We have to climb up on them 
walls an' pry off the bricks in chunks." 

"That's pretty risky work, I suppose," Bill suggested. 

"No, it ain't, unless we strike a wall that's rocky." 

"^Rocky'.?" I queried. 

"Yes, shaky." 

"I guess you'll find this one rocky." 

"Looks as if it might be," he repHed. 

"And that rubbish in the cellar," persisted Bill, "what 
becomes of it?" 

"Oh, most generally we leave that for the excavator to 
cart off. When the contract calls for us to take the rubbish 
out, we clear out all the partition walls on the second floor, 
and run chutes out over the sidewalk. Then we begin tearin' 
out the floors above, one after the other, lettin' the rubbish 
gather on the second floor. At night, when there ain't much 
street traffic, we shovel out the stuff into the chutes and slide 
it down into dump-carts. They haul it off to the city 
dumps." 

"But I thought you saved it all?" 

"Oh, yes; all that's worth selling, but most of it ain't, in 
a building like this. All the sound lumber and bricks are 
saved out an' sold." 

Just then a shrill whistle announced that the noon hour 
was over, and we beat a retreat to our office. 

From our window we had an excellent chance to watch the 



Wrecking a Skyscraper. 239 

wreckers gradually eat out the heart of the building to the 
very roof until only the thin shell of brick wall remained with 
the floor beams left in place to steady it. After the rafters 
had been removed, a couple of men climbed up on the wall 
at our side of the building, and began prying off the bricks. 
One of them was the man we had been talking to. 

It looked like very precarious work on that thin wall, only 
a foot and a half wide, but ^'Goat" Anderson calmly sat 
astride it and dug away at the bricks with his pinch-bar, 
while the other man hammered at the wall from time 
to time with a big mallet to loosen the mortar. Every 
time he hit the wall the dust pufi^ed out of the seams, 
and it looked as though he might knock the footing out 
from under himself; but the men went on working,'^calmly 
tumbling the bricks down in blocks about two feet square, 
without ever once dropping a single brick over on the 
skylight below. But as they proceeded, we noticed that 
they grew more and more cautious. Evidently the wall 
was growing rocky. 

''Say, look at that!" cried Bill, ''did you ever see a blacker 
sky?'' 

So intent had I been with watching the work of the 
wreckers, that I hadn't noticed the wicked-looking storm 
coming up out of the west. 

"Gee!" I exclaimed. "There's wind in those clouds. 
They'll have a tough time of it when that strikes them." 

"Yes, it's coming this way, and is going to topple that wall 
right over onto the skylight!" 



240 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

''I wonder if they see it coming — Hey, there! Mr. Ander- 
son!" I shouted. "Look at the cyclone!" 

My voice was drowned in a growl of distant thunder; but 
that was just as effective a warning. "Goat" Anderson 
looked up with a start, then shouted an order to the men 
below. In another minute, half a dozen bar men had climbed 
astride the wall around the cracked part, each deftly nib- 
bling it down brick by brick. They dared not pry the bricks 
ofF in big chunks because the wall was too shaky. There 
was no way of tying it fast, and that weak section must be 
torn down before the wind blew it over and sent it crashing 
through the glass below. 

Rapidly and yet captiously they w^orked, making good 
progress. Then suddenly, with a shriek and a slamming of 
iron shutters, the storm broke. The fury of that first blast 
nearly swept them off. We could see them clinging desper- 
ately to that tottering old wall as we hastily drew our 
windows shut. It looked as if the wall must surely topple 
over, and yet, instead of sliding down to safety and shelter, 
the men braced themselves against the wind and went on 
with their ticklish work. Blast after blast rattled our win- 
dows and streamed whistling through leaks in the casement. 
Clouds of dust swirled up out of the wrecked building, at 
times almost hiding the men from view. Maybe it was 
imagination, but we were confident that we saw that old 
wall sway. Still the men stuck to their work, even when 
they were pelted with rain and hail. 

For fully fifteen minutes they labored feverishly in that 



Wrecking a Skyscraper, 241 

storm without dropping a single brick over the outside 
of the wall. It was marvelous work. Then, when the 
danger spot had been nibbled away and the wind had 
nearly abated, they clambered down and sought shelter on 
the floor below. 

It was a wonderful exhibition of nerve and devotion to 
duty. At the first opportunity we went around to talk to 
"Goat" Anderson. 

"Oh, it was nothinV' he said. 

^'But weren't you afraid the wall would topple over?" 

"Sure, it was a bit rocky, but that's why we stuck there. 
We couldn't leave it to fall on that there skylight. A house 
wrecker's got to take chances, you know. " 

"Well, it was the pluckiest piece of work I've ever seen!" 
declared Bill 

"It was nothin', I tell you; nothin' at all," protested 
"Goat" Anderson. "This ain't much of a job anyhow. It's 
only a ^wall-bearin' house'." 

"'A wall-bearing house'? What's that?" 

"A house where the floors are carried by the walls," he 
said. "In a steel frame buildin' each floor carries its own 
wall, that's why they can start buildin' the walls at the top 
or the middle or wherever they want to. " 

"Oh, yes, I know," said Bill. "But you don't ever have 
to tear down a steel building, do you?" 

"Sure we do. Next week we're goin' to tackle a sky- 
scraper." 

"A skyscraper!" we ejaculated. 



242 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

"Yep; twenty-two-story office-building. Three hundred 
and six feet high." 

"And you're going to tear it down?" 

"Sure." 

"But what for?" 

"It ain't big enough. Land is worth so much there that 
they have to get more office rent out of it." 

"How old a building is it?" we inquired. 

"Why, it ain't been built more than fifteen years. I re- 
member seein' it just after it was finished. Thought it was 
a pretty slick buildin' then. Shows you how quick things 
get out of date in this town." 

"Wonder if they'll tear down the Manhattan Syndicate 
Building in the next fifteen or twenty years," mused Bill. 

"I guess not," said "Goat" Anderson, shaking his head. 
"Still you can never tell. I never thought, when I first saw 
that buildin', I'd be tearing it down inside of fifteen years. 
It will be some job, too. You'll have to come 'round an' see 
it." 

"We'll surely do that," we replied. 

The skyscraper whose death-warrant had been signed 
merely because it could not grow like the value of the prop- 
erty it stood upon was, luckily, not more than four blocks off, 
and that gave us plenty of opportunity to go around there at 
noon time. It was really marvelous to see how systematically 
the work was done. 

"Makes me think of a miUtary campaign," remarked Bill; 
and the simile was not a bad one, for the men went at the 



Wrecking a Skyscraper. 243 

work like trained soldiers. There were several distinct 
armies. First the bar men attacked the walls, stripping 
away the brick from behind the stone facing and ripping 
out the brick arches of the floors. Then another gang of 
men chipped off the brick filling in the steel columns. After 
that came an army of masons, who took down the stonework 
while a fourth gang consisted of iron-workers who chipped 
away the rivets of the skeleton framework and removed the 
steel beams. 

Of course, these forces of men did not begin their operation 
until the building had been stripped of all piping and fixtures, 
wooden moldings, marble trim, etc. The floors were opened 
up for a narrow space along the walls so that rubbish could 
be dumped through. In order to get the proper slant for the 
chutes over the broad sidewalk, they were run out from the 
third floor, and it was on this floor that all the plaster and 
rubbish was accumulated until nightfall. The bricks, how- 
ever, were carted away during the day. A system of steel 
troughs zigzagged down to the shed over the sidewalk, and 
the bricks would be sent coasting down all the way from the 
top until they came up against a gate at the mouth of the 
chute. Here there was a tender who would let the gate 
swing open long enough to fill a cart with bricks, and then 
would slam the gate shut until the next cart came up. 
There was a steady stream of carts all day hauling oflF the 
bricks; and there was no respite for those bricks. A large 
building was being erected near-by, and as fast as they 
could be carted over there, they were built into the walls of 



244 Pick J Shovel and Pluck. 

this new building. Of course, many of the bricks were broken 
and could not be used again, especially those built into the 
steel columns. They were dug out with pneumatic riveters 
fitted with chisel points in place of hammers. 

There was a wide variety of work going on all the time. 
In some places, it was even necessary to blast out heavy 
concrete walls. No time was wasted. The men took only 
a half-hour for lunch. The whole structure was razed to 
the ground in the remarkably short period of six weeks. 
But the conquest was not achieved without heavy losses to 
the attackers. Ambulances were kept busy. There were 
eighty-five men hurt, altogether. This made it seem all the 
more like a real battle. Of course, most of the injuries were 
not serious. 

I had considered the iron-workers the most reckless class 
of men in the world, but I noticed that although they ran 
around on the beams like monkeys, they always preferred 
to feel good, solid steel underfoot, and would seldom trust 
to planks or brickwork; besides, they were up where things 
could not fall on them. The bar men, on the other hand, 
were constantly running chances. Not a few were injured 
by the slipping of an insecure plank or the collapse of a 
weakened floor arch. 

We had to leave for college before the wrecking was half 
done, but on our last day at the oflSce, we went around to 
make a final inspection of the work. Neither Dr. McGreg- 
gor nor Uncle Ed, who was back in the city again, knew of 
these visits. They would never have dreamed of letting us 



Wrecking a Skyscraper. 



245 



CLEVIS 



go into a place so dangerous. That day we watched the 
masons taking down a large stone cornice. One huge slab 
had been pried loose, and they were about to raise it off its 
seat and lower it to the shed over the sidewalk. 

^Tm puzzled to know how they are going to lift such a 
stone/' I remarked to Bill. ''It must weigh several tons, 
and it is certainly too heavy for them to pry it up and pass 
chains under it.'' 

"It is just as puzzling to figure 
out how they laid it there in the 
first place/' returned Bill. 

The man in charge of this part 
of the work was a grumpy fellow, 
and we could not get much infor- 
mation out of him. When we 
asked him how he was going to 
hitch this stone to the hoisting- 
cable he snapped, "Use a lewis." 

Maybe most of the boys who read this book know what a 
"lewis" is. We didn't; but as the man's manner repelled 
further questioning, we withdrew and waited for our eyes to 
supply the definition of the word. 

In the center of the huge slab was an undercut or dove- 
tailed hole. In this something was placed which was evi- 
dently the "lewis." It was a sort of clamp. Figure 21 shows 
exactly how it looked. There were two steel fingers flat on 
one side, but flaring on the other. These, when placed face 
to face, could just slip through the throat of the dovetailed 




FIG. 21. DEVICE FOR LIFT- 
ING STONES. 



246 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

hole. After they were introduced into the hole, they were 
separated and a third finger was inserted between them. 
Then a bolt was passed through all three fingers and through 
the arms of a ''clevis," or open ring. This made a firm at- 
tachment to the stone so that it could be Hfted by passing 
the hoisting-hook through the clevis. The boss showed his 
confidence in the strength of the lewis by climbing upon the 
stone and riding down on it to the platform below, where he 
had something to attend to. 

With the boss out of the way, we felt freer to talk to the 
workmen. They showed us how a lewis is released by tak- 
ing out the bolt and pulling out the middle finger first, after 
which the other two fingers may be removed. 

Presently we noticed a group of men, a couple of floors 
below us, and we were informed that they were a party of 
engineers who had come to inspect the steelwork and see 
how it had stood the strain of fifteen years' service — whether 
it had rusted away under the brick filling or beneath the 
concrete covering. As the party climbed the stairs. Bill 
grabbed me by the arm. 

'*Jim," he exclaimed, "there is Dr. McGreggor!" 

** You're right. Bill!" I cried apprehensively. '*And that's 
Uncle Ed with him, isn't it? I would just as leave they 
didn't see us." 

" But how are we going to get out without passing them ?" 

"Why don't you ride down?" suggested one of the men. 
"Jump on that stone there." 

"Is it safe?" 




'how foolish it was for me with my fly s weight to attempt to 
SWING THAT PONDEROUS SEE-SAW." — See page 247. 



Wrecking a Skyscraper. 247 

''Safe as an elevator," he assured us. 

We climbed aboard a big slab. Bill stood up, but I felt 
safer to sit down. Then the signal was given, and we were 
swung out over the side of the building. I don't know how 
it happened, but the men must have been careless in putting 
that lewis together. At any rate, when we were within about 
fifteen feet of the platform over the sidewalk, the bolt worked 
loose. There was a sudden jar as one end of the clevis sHpped 
free. Before I could scramble up, the clevis parted with a 
sharp crack, and down I plunged with the massive stone. 
At the same instant, I felt a stinging blow as Bill's heel 
struck my forehead, and I caught a fleeting gUmpse of my 
chum clinging to the dangling cable. 

The next instant, there was a terrific crash as the big 
stone struck the platform. I have no clear idea of just what 
happened, the fall or the kick must have partially stunned 
me. They told me afterward that the stone struck almost 
exactly at its center upon a string-piece at the edge of the 
platform. It quivered there uncertainly for a moment, as if 
undecided which way to fall, and then began to rock slowly 
toward the street. I have a vague recollection of feeling 
the slab tip up and seeing, directly below, three frightened 
women in an automobile that had been blocked by the trafiic. 
Instinctively, I scrambled back to the rear end of the slab. 
I say instinctively, because, if I had thought a moment, I 
should have realized how foolish it was for me with my fly's 
weight to attempt to swing that ponderous see-saw. But, 
miraculous as it may seem, that stone was so deHcately 



248 Pick, Shovel and Pluck. 

poised that my weight did actually check its swing until a 
couple of men rushed up and, by adding theirs, bore it down 
to the platform. Then I swooned. 

The next thing I knew they were dashing cold water on 
my face. Uncle Ed was standing over me and Dr. Mc- 
Greggor was trying to stop the blood from a cut in my fore- 
head. Behind him was Bill, white as a sheet. 

'Tm all right," I said, struggHng to rise. I was heartily 
ashamed of my weakness. 

"Now, there's no hurry," admonished Dr. McGreggor. 
'^Just rest there a minute." 

'' But I feel like a baby here," I protested. 

''The grittiest baby I ever saw!" said Uncle Ed. ''Don't 
you know that your quick wit saved three women from being 
crushed under that stone.?" 

I shook my head. It felt nice to be praised, but I knew I 
didn't deserve any credit. If I had used my wits I should 
have jumped off the stone, instead of being such a fool as to 
attempt to rock that monstrous slab. It was Providence 
that saved those lives, not I. 

They made me wait there until an ambulance surgeon 
arrived, and he bandaged my head. Then Dr. McGreg- 
gor bade me go home. He never said a word to me about 
our going into such a danger-spot without his permission. 
The next day, when I was leaving for college, he actually 
patted me affectionately when I bade him good-by. 

"I believe you have the right stuff in you," he said. 

That unexpected word of encouragement made me set my 



Wrecking a Skyscraper. 249 

teeth with the determination to make a record in college. 
'^It's funny, Jim/' remarked my chum, as we took our 
farewell view of the city, from the deck of a ferry-boat, "we 
had our first adventure in New York where they were build- 
ing a skyscraper, and our last where they were tearing one 
down. '' 



(the end.) 



INDEX. 



A 

Aerator at Kensico Lake .... 203 

Aerator, odor of 204 

Air, fighting sea with 52 

Air, raising wreck with 39 

Air, washing water with. 193, 202 

Anchor, diver caught by ... . 53 
Anchors dragged across site 

of siphon 202 

Aqueduct aerator 202 

Aqueduct, Bill hurt in 4 

Aqueduct, Hudson River si- 
phon 193 

Aqueduct, pressure at Hud- 
son River ehaft 194 

Aqueduct shaft, cap for 194 

Aqueduct shaft cover, bolts 

for 196 

Aqueduct shaft, flooded 2 

Aqueduct siphon to Staten 

Island 197 

Aqueduct water, bad taste . . 202 

Arch, building in a caisson. . 227 

Arch, Hell Gate, erecting . . . 232 

Arch, Hell Gate, length of. . . 230 
Arch, Hell Gate, size of 

trusses 231 

Arch, iteel, greatest in world . 220 



B 

Ball chained to prisoner's 

foot 210 

Bar-man, house wrecking. . . 237 
"Batter" piles 213 



Bessemer converter 136 

Bill, in hospital 5 

Bird Rock 40 

''Birdena,'" old French boat. 34 

''Bloom," steel mills 135 

Blast furnace 124 

Blast furnace, '* snort valve" 130 

Blast furnace, tapping 129 

Boiler, diver trapped over. . . 56 
Bolts for aqueduct shaft 

cover 196 

Boston & Albany vs. Panama 

Railroad 38 

Breakwater, pneumatic 58 

Brick chutes 238, 243 

Bridge abutment found in 

subway excavation 213 

Bridge Arch, erecting 232 

Bridge building in a caisson . 22S 

Bridge, Hell Gate arch 220 

Bridge towers, Hell Gate 230 

Building, collapsed 234 

Building downward 166 

Building, fire-boat, moving. . . 160 

Building, hanging 164 

Building on sand founda- 
tions 209 

Building, wrecking 234 

Building, underpinning foun- 
dations of 160 

Buildings, watching align- 
ment of 209 

"Bull-dredging" 41 

'' Bull-wheel," Panama locks. 25 
Buzzards and marl 16 



251 



252 



Index, 



Cable house propped on piles. i6o 
Caisson, building bridge 

in 227, 228 

Caisson, floating 103 

Canal, buried 210 

Canal, old bridge abutment. 213 
Cantilever bridge in a cais- 
son. . . 228 

Cap for aqueduct shaft 194 

Cast-iron converted into 

steel 131 

Cast-iron, shrinkage of 194 

Cement, amount in Hell 

Gate Bridge 224 

Cement made from slag 127 

Chagres, conquest of 20 

Chimney flue, man sealed in. 186 
Chute system of pouring con- 
crete 224 

Coal, burning in mine 90 

Coffer-dam around Maine. . . 76 

Coffer-dams, Keokuk 113 

Coffer-dams, sea-going rail- 
road 17 

"Collect Pond'' 211 

College, deferred ^6 

College, Dr. McGreggor's 

offer I 

College, leaving for 249 

Colon, arrival at 20 

Concrete, amount in Hell 

Gate Bridge 224 

Concrete cantilever in caisson 229 
Concrete, chute system of 

pouring 224 

Concrete dam, expansion 

joints in 115 

Concrete, laying under water 1 70 
Concrete, samples at Keokuk 116 
Congressman and Colonel 

Goethals 30 

Converter, Bessemer 136 

Conveyor, chain, for lumber. 104 
Conveyor, trolley, in caisson . 109 
Cover for aqueduct shaft. . . 194 



Cradle, launching, for siphon. 198 

Crane-man, hero 137 

Cucaracha slides 37 

Culebra cut 34^ 37 

Curb-ring for aqueduct shaft 
cover 194 

D 

Dam built with water 22 

Dannie Roach dives under 

bulkhead 183 

Dike, Gamboa, blown up . . . 36 
Dinkey engines, moving gas 

main with 216 

Diver caught by anchor .... 53 

Diver fighting shark 71 

Diver trapped in smoke-box. 56 
Diving bell, building quay 

with 103 

Diving for Bill in aqueduct. . 4 
Divingln tunnel under bulk- 
head 183 

Diving suits, going down in. 47 
Drawbridge, to the keys. ... 13 
Dr. McGreggor, interview 

with 7 

Dr. McGreggor's office, work 

in 156 

Dr. McGreggor, telephone in- 
terview 190 

Dredge, locks for 12 

Dredging, "bull" 41 

Dredging for Panama lock 

foundations 23 

Dredging for siphon under 
Narrows 197 



Ed, Uncle, see Uncle Ed. 
Engines, moving gas main 

with 216 

Everglades, Florida 11 

Expansion joints in concrete 

dam 115 

Explosion in open hearth 

building 136 



Index. 



253 



F 

Fight with sharks 71, 72 

Fills protected by marl 15 

Fire-boat house, moving. ... 160 

Fire, taming steel with 123 

Fire, blowing out with high 

pressure hose 214 

Fissure in wall 235 

Fissure under tower founda- 
tion 225 

Floating foundations 209 

Flood at Keokuk, fighting. . . 121 
Flood, in aqueduct shaft .... 2 
Flood in East River tunnel. . 172 

Flood in subway 205 

Floods, Mississippi 99 

Flue, man sealed in 186 

Flue, riveting sections of . . . . 189 
"Foot-iron" in subway exca- 
vation 210 

Foundations for Hell Gate 

tower 225 

Foundations on sand 209 

Foundations undermined by 

subway 208 

Fountains for aerating 

water 203 

Furnace, open hearth 131 



Gamboa dike,Tblowing up. . . 35 

Gary steel works 123 

Gas main, moving with 

dinkey engines 216 

Gas mains on trestle 215 

Gatun Dam built with water 22 
Gatun Lake, elevation and 

area 21 

Gatun locks 23 

Girders of hanging building. 165 

Girders, wicket 28 

Glaciers and Hell Gate bridge 226 



Goethals, Colonel, and young 
congressman 30 

Goethals, interview with 
Colonel 29 



Hammer, steam 16 

Havana Harbor 74 

Hay wagon through chord of 

bridge truss 231 

Heading, tunnel, upper and 

lower 172 

Hell Gate, blowing up 226 

Hell Gate arch, erecting .... 232 

Hell Gate bridge 220 

Hell Gate bridge, size of. ... 230 
High pressure fire line, burst . 214 

"Hole in the sea*' 62 

"Horseshoe Curve" 151 

Hose, bursting of 3 

"Housebreaker," transit man 205 

House-wrecking 234 

House-wrecking, "bar-man" 237 
Hurricane, at Bird Rock. ... 48 
Hurricane and Florida rail- 
road 14 

Hurricane warnings for rail- 
road 19 



Ice jam at Keokuk 120 

Ingot molds 133 

Iron converted into steel. ... 131 

Iron, shrinkage of 194 

Isthmus, severing the 32, 36 



Joint, butt and lap 191 

Joint, flexible for Narrows 

siphon 199 

Joints, paper in concrete dam 116 

Joints, testing machine for. . 201 



^54 



Index. 



Keokuk dam iii 

Knight's Key viaduct i8 

Krakatua, Volcano of 36 



Ladle of steel, spilt 137 

Launching cradle for siphon. 198 

Lead, in siphon joints 201 

Lewis for lifting stones 245 

Lewis gives way 247 

Location pipe and trapped 

watchmen 176 

Lock gates, emergency 27 

Lock gates, Panama 25 

Locks, Gatun 23 

Locks, for dredges, Florida. . 12 

Locks, Mississippi 113 

Locomotive cab, ride in 140 

Locomotive, sensations in. . . 147 

Locomotive, weight of 143 

Locomotives, electric towing. 27 

Long Key viaduct 18 

M 

McGreggor, see Dr. Mc- 

Greggor. 

Madeline f wreck of 40 

Maine f after-turret of 75 

Mainey baring mystery of . . . 74 
Maine, turret sunk with 

dynamite 83 

Marl, Florida R. R., odor. . . 16 

Mats, willow, weaving 98 

Mining sulphur with hot 

water 84 

Mississippi dam, coal saved 

by 120 

Mississippi, discharge of . . . . 100 

Mississippi flood, at Keokuk 121 

Mississippi, flood reservoirs.. 99 

Mississippi floods 99 

Mississippi, ground sills 10 1 

Mississippi, keeping crooked. 96 



Mississippi, keeping in check 92 
Mississippi, Keokuk dam. . ^iii 
Mississippi, length of ...... , 92 

Mississippi locks 113 

Mississippi, paving banks . . 98 
Mississippi, sailing up by 

drifting down 93 

Mississippi, willow mats .... 98 
Missouri, see Mississippi. 
Mitering motors, Panama 

locks 26 

Mixer in steel plant 130 

Morning, a disastrous i 

Motion pictures under water 63 



Open hearth building, explo- 
sion in 136 

Open hearth furnace 131 

Open hearth furnace, tap- 
ping 132 

Ore-boats unloading 124 

"Over Sea Limited" 11 

Oxy-acetylene torch 81 

P 

Pacific Ocean, sunrise in. . . . 33 

Panama, blowing up Gamboa ^v 

dike 36 

Panama Canal, tides 21 

Panama, dredging for lock 

foundations 23 

Panama, emergency lock 

gates 27 

Panama, French canal 21 

Panama, geographical posi- 
tion 33 

Panama, lock gates 25 

Panama locks, mitering 

motors 26 

Panama, old city of 34 

Panama, rack railroad 27 

Panama Railroad^z;^. Boston 

& Albany 7 38 

Panama slides 37 



Index. 



'-o:) 



Panama, trip to 9 

Panama vs. Krakatua vol- 
cano 36 

Photographing chamber, sub- 
marine 66 

Photographs, submarine.... 62 

Piles, "batter" 213 

Piles, capping, in a caisson. . 109 

Piles driven in rock 16 

Piles, sheet 78 

Pinch bars (house- wrecking). 237 
Policemen and "house- 
breaker" 206 

Prisoner's foot-iron 210 

Pump, "giant sinker" 2, 178 

Pump, smoke-stack as 186 

Pumping twenty million gal- 
lons from subway 211 

Pumps, electric, in subway. . 217 



Quay, building with diving 

bell 103 

Quicksand, freezing 91 



Rack railroad, Panama 27 

Rail mill 134 

Railroad across Hell Gate. . . 220 
Railroad bank protected by 

marl 15 

Railroad, New York trans- 
portation system 212 

Railroad, lowering for aque- 
duct castings 196 

Railroad over the sea 9 

Railroad signal, danger 152 

Railroad, transporting big 

aqueduct castings 195 

Railroad, well cars 195 

"Red-Eye," danger signal. . . 152 

Rescue expedition in tunnel . 182 

River, setting to work 1 1 1 

Road-bed built with dredges . 1 2 

Rock, driving piles in 16 



Salving wreck by dredging. . 41 

Sea, fighting with air 52 

Sea, hole in 62 

Sea, railroad over 9 

See-saw, stone 247 

Sewer burst in East River 

tunnel 177 

Sewer, burst in subway 217 

Shafts, collapsible, for "hole 

in sea" 65 

Sharks fight duel 70 

Sharks, fight with 46, 71, 72 

Sharks, fishing for 47, 69 

Sharks, spearing 46 

Sheet piling 78 

Shrinkage of cast-iron and 

steel 194 

Signal, danger 148 

Signals, railroad 143 

"Sinker" (pump) 2, 178 

Siphon, flexible joints 199 

Siphon under Hudson River. 193 

Siphon under Narrows 197 

Skyscraper, foundations on 

sand 209 

Skyscraper, wrecking. . . .234, 242 
Slag, making cement from.. . 127 
Smoke-box, diver trapped in. 56 
Smoke-stack as air pump ... 186 
"Snort valve" of blast fur- 
nace 130 

Soaking pits of steel works. . 134 

Springs in subway 210 

"Starlight Limited," in loco- 
motive cab of 140 

Steel, cast-iron converted into 1 3 1 

Steel, shrinkage of 194 

Steel, taming with fire 123 

Stone, see-saw 247 

Stones, lifting with lewis. . . . 245 

Storm, on the Madeline 48 

Storm, salving wreck with.. . 42 
Storm, wrecking wall during 239 



256 



Index. 



Stream, underground, fight- 
ing 205 

Stripping machine 133 

Submarine photographs 63 

Subway, flood in 205 

Subway, gas mains, moving . 216 

Sulphur, mining with hot 

water 87 

Subway, rain in 212 

Subway, storm, sewer burst. 217 
Subway transportation sys- 
tem 212 

Subway weighted to keep 

from floating 2II 

Subway work, visit to 209 



T 

Testing machine for siphon 

joints 201 

Tidal wave, Krakatua 37 

Tides, and Panama Canal. . . 21 

Torch, oxy-acetylene 71 

Towers of Hell Gate bridge.. 230 
Transit man, ''house-breaker" 205 
Tremie, Florida railroad 

work 17 

Tremie scow, Harlem River. 170 

Trestle, gas mains on 215 

Trusses of Hell Gate arch. . . 231 

Tunnel, floating 155 

Tunnel, flood in (East 

River) 174 

Tunnel, flood in (Subway).. . 205 

Tunnel, Harlem River 157 

Tunnel heading, upper and 

lower 172 

Tunnel, rescue expedition in. 182 
Tunnel, ride on locomotive 

through 149 

Tunnel section, launching. . . 159 

Tunnel section, sinking 168 

Tunnel sections locked to- 
gether 169 

Tunnel tubes, floating 162 

Tunnel tubes, launching. ... 163 



Tunnel tubes, size of 161 

Tunnel weighted to keep 

from floating 211 

Turret sunk with dynamite.. 81 

Turkey-buzzards and marl. . 16 



Uncle Ed, meeting at New 

Orleans 84 

Unloading machines at Gary. 124 



Viaduct, Hell Gate 224 

Viaduct, Knight's Key 18 

Viaduct, Long Key 18 

Volcano vs. Panama excava- 
tion 36 



W 

Wall, rocky, wrecking 239 

Watchmen trapped in tunnel 174 

Water, bad taste 202 

Water, locomotive scooping 

^ip 149 

Water, mining with 84 

Water superheated to 335°. . 87 
Water, washing with air. . 193, 202 

Well cars 195 

Willow mats 98 

Wreck of Madeline 40 

Wreck on Panama Coast. ... 40 
Wreck protected by pneu- 
matic breakwater 60 

Wreck, raising Maine 74 

Wreck, raising with air 39 

Wrecking house from bottom 

up 236 

Wrecking rocky wall 239 

Wrecking skyscraper /234 

Wood under water does not 
rot 214 



3477-2 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Aug. 2003 

PreservationTechnologies 

A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION 

1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township. PA 16066 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




'^iiililii i 



